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dindjarindiaries · 5 months ago

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Damn Good Drinks

summary: An unfortunate mistake rewards you with a fortunate encounter, and this undercover soldier is nothing like you could have expected.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: meet-cute, alcohol mentions/consumption, mentions of harassment, flirting, suggestiveness, protective hunter, one (1) gratuitous steamy kiss, tech is always at the scene of the crime, pre-tcw s7

rating: T

word count: 3.556k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

It was another rowdy crowd tonight. You really should’ve known, considering the fact that the tourist season was nearly upon your town already. With the war still raging on in the galaxy, people were flocking here by the hundreds, eager to get away from the conflict on their own homeworlds.

You heaved a sigh as you carefully balanced the tray of drinks you’d just collected from the bar. Wrestling your way through these crowds was far from your favorite thing to do, but it was better than being stuck behind the bar itself for countless hours. It was, ironically, safer this way, too. Not that you could ever fully escape the wandering eyes, comments, and even the touches, but the freedom to run or fight if necessary was a comfort nonetheless.

Pitiful little excuse mes wouldn’t do you any good out here, so you simply announced your presence by jutting your elbows and shoulders into the people you were trying to pass. You could at least finally see the table you were heading for, which was a gift in a crowd this thick, especially at such a late hour.

You were just thinking about how excited you were to finally go home for the night when you suddenly heard a commotion beside you.

“Hey, watch where’ur goin’!”

“No, you watch it!”

You rolled your eyes. There was nothing quite like a classic ego-off. Hopefully, they both lost—and hopefully, they kept you out of it.

But you should’ve known better than to think you’d actually have good luck with that.

The guy closest to you got shoved by the other, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. Caught in the crossfire, you were also shoved right into something solid, hard enough to make every drink on your tray splatter on you and whatever, or whoever, you’d run into.

Unfortunately, you were in the center of the cantina, so it couldn’t have been a wall. It had to have been a person, a patron who was most likely going to want to fight you, now.

You were about to curse the pair of egotistical maniacs out when you suddenly realized the person you’d run into was steadying you with a hand on your elbow and another on your opposite arm.

“You alright?”

You spun around to face them, but you were too distracted by the fact that nearly the entire front of their white shirt was now stained in the purple hue of one of the drinks you’d been carrying.

You let out a worried gasp and reached from the rag you kept tucked into your pocket. “I’m so sorry, sir! Let me get that for you.” As you tried your best to dry and blot out the stain in the patron’s shirt, you couldn’t help muttering in contempt. “Kriffing boys spilling some damn good drinks over a pointless ego battle…”

You only stopped when you realized that your efforts were to no avail; this poor person’s shirt was stained for good. You let out a sigh, but the breath got caught in your throat when you blinked a few times and realized exactly what, or who, you were looking at.

You weren’t trying to ogle this man, you really weren’t, but it was hard when the first thing your eyes were stuck to was the sight of the now-transparent fabric of his sleeveless tunic clinging to perhaps the most toned set of muscles you had ever seen before in your life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the more you observed, the more you were convinced that you weren’t actually being hyperbolic.

The man’s face was just as sculpted as the rest of him, though half his face was cast in the dark shadow of what looked like a giant skull tattoo, matching the one that was printed on his red bandana. That matched the scarf hung around his neck, fabric that his dark, shoulder-length hair was brushing against. He still had his hands on you, which were wrapped up to his elbows in a light-colored fabric, but the touch was soft enough to indicate that he meant no harm.

Thank the Force that the last thing you caught were his eyes, because you wouldn’t have been able to look away if you’d done that first.

“‘Damn good drinks,’ huh?” The corners of the man’s mouth started to rise as his brown gaze flickered over you. “Do they taste as good as they look on you?”

Your brow shot up at that. Maybe it was the mere fact you were attracted to him, or that you couldn’t sense any ill intent like you could with the others, but you weren’t disgusted by his advances.

No, they made the temperature in the room rise to a really dangerous height.

You returned the once-over and offered a thoughtful hum. “Maybe, but they definitely don’t taste as good as they look on you, so don’t be too disappointed.” You huffed and focused on righting the capsized cups on your tray. “Can I get you one as a token of apology?”

The man shifted slightly in front of you, and with a quick glance, you realized he was blocking you from getting hit by another shove that came from a new direction. He absorbed the movement as if it were nothing. You furrowed your brow, watching as his arms and shoulders barely flexed at the motion.

Suddenly, you were realizing that this had to be the body of a soldier. But he obviously wasn’t a droid, and he certainly didn’t look like a clone…

“You don’t owe me an apology.” He nodded, making the stray hairs that stuck out of his bandana bounce against his forehead. “Wasn’t really my brightest idea to wear a white shirt to a place like this, anyway.”

You chuckled and shrugged. “Well, thank the Force you did.” You winked and gestured with your head towards the bar. “Can I still get you that drink, anyway?”

He smiled. “Sure. I’ve got some time to kill.”

You looked down when warmth started to rush into the tips of your ears. That downward glance could only last a moment, because soon, you had to shove your way through the rowdy crowd. Amazingly, though, they started to part much more easily for you, and it only took a quick look behind you to realize why.

This man was just about shoving everyone aside and casting warning glances to anyone who dared to react to it. Even just the way he was walking screamed danger to a potential opponent.

He was definitely a soldier, but for who or what, you weren’t sure. At this point, you really didn’t care, because your heart was speaking a lot louder than your brain when it came to him.

You brought him to the furthest edge of the bar, a private enough corner where you could get behind it and make him a drink yourself. You’d still have to remake the ones you spilled, but if you were being honest, that wasn’t really your biggest priority right now. They could wait a few extra minutes.

“So…” you stole a glance up at him, “you got a name?”

He huffed and rested his wrapped forearms upon the bartop, leaning forward enough for you to hear him over the din of the rowdy patrons. “You can just call me Hunter.”

You hummed and stared more than you really had to at the cups you tossed between your hands. “Is that what you are?”

“A bounty hunter?” He scoffed. “Have I made that bad of an impression on you already?”

You laughed at that. Only someone operating under some kind of honor code would have such a strong distaste for bounty hunters. You had no doubt now that you knew what he was.

“Then what’s a soldier like you doing out here, so far away from the front lines?”

“Who says I’m a soldier?”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t know, Hunter. Maybe it’s the giant tactical pack you’ve got slung on your back, or those heavily-trained arms you’ve clearly put on display.”

A light sparkled in Hunter’s eyes as the corners of his lips rose in a subtle smirk. “You seem to know a lot about arms.”

You returned his mischievous smile. “Only because I like staring at yours.” You nodded towards his stained shirt. “You want the drink that was spilled on you, or the one that got on me?”

Hunter looked down at himself and circled his jaw. He shrugged before he lifted his head and met your gaze again. “You choose.”

You considered his words for a moment as you searched his eyes. In the lighting of the bar, they glowed more amber, which only made them even more captivating. You fought not to lose yourself within them as you ultimately nodded. “Alright.”

You focused on getting all the right ingredients together, all the while sensing the heat of his gaze on you. Fighting back another smile, you decided to question him further.

“Care to explain why you don’t look like a clone when you clearly are one?”

“So long as you tell me why your heart’s beating so fast.”

That gave you pause. He was right—your heart hadn’t stopped hammering against your chest ever since you got your first good look at him—but there was no way he would know that without feeling your pulse himself, or at least taking a strangely accurate guess.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you gripped the glass and shaker tighter in your hands. “How would you even know that?”

Hunter’s brow lifted. “Would you call me crazy if I told you that it actually answers your first question?”

You relaxed again and gave him a nod. “Fine, you’ve got my interest.” You tried to calm your racing heart, if only out of spite.

“I’m an enhanced clone. My squad and I were each given different traits that are ‘desirable’ in soldiers.”

You spared him a single glance. Thankfully, he didn’t look uncomfortable discussing this. That wasn’t your end goal, even if you did at least want to know what you were getting yourself into. “And what does that have to do with my heartbeat?”

Hunter chuckled. “Well, I’m named after my enhancement.”

As you shook the concoction inside the mixer, you pondered his words. A hunter, and a heartbeat… and shoving people aside before they’d even come close to you…

“You’re telling me you can… hear my heartbeat?”

Hunter’s head bobbed. “In a way.” He tapped his fingers along the bartop. “Enhanced senses. My strong suit is electromagnetic frequencies, but I can pick up on some organic things, too.” He nodded at you. “The louder a heartbeat, the easier it is for me to hear it.”

You pretended to scowl for the sake of your dignity as you strained the drink into his glass. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to have a racing heart in a place like this.”

Hunter hummed. “That’s fair.” He gestured with a thumb to the crowds behind him. “Is it always like this?”

You exhaled heavily and shook your head. “It wasn’t before, but the longer the war goes on, the worse it gets. We’re an escape for a lot of people, it seems.”

You picked up the glass and slid it over to him.

“Here. Let me know what you think.”

Before you could pull your hand off the glass, Hunter placed his there, his fingers brushing yours as they drifted by one another. You caught his stare, and you could’ve sworn he sent you the quickest wink you’d ever seen before he drew his first sip.

And there went all chances of slowing down your racing heart. He was certainly gonna notice that with his apparent enhanced senses. Damn it.

You tasked yourself with remaking the other patrons’ drinks while Hunter offered his review. “It is damn good.” He shrugged in your periphery. “But still not as good as it looks on you.”

You laughed. “Well, that’s because it’s the one I spilled on you.” You spared him a quick glance of approval. “So something must be wrong with your ‘enhanced’ taste buds.”

You enjoyed watching him hide his new flush by taking another sip of the drink, but the weight of his identity was beginning to settle in. A clone soldier, an enhanced one, was here. That had to mean the war wouldn’t be far behind.

“Since you’re here,” you paused for a second as you shook another drink, “does that mean I should be getting ready for the war to come to my doorstep?”

Hunter grew more serious as he shook his head. “No. You’re safe here.” He gestured towards the cantina’s only entrance. “We’re just gathering some intel.”

“‘We’?” You smiled down at the drinks. “So, that squad of yours is around here, too?”

“Not here, but yeah, they’re on-world.”

With the drinks now finished, you set them on the tray and took a second to look Hunter in the eye. There was something here, and there was a lot he was giving you—and you needed to know what the real reasoning was behind it.

“Why are you telling me all this, Hunter?” You tilted your head at him. “Seems like pretty confidential information for a random civilian like me to know.”

Hunter held your stare even as he tipped his head back to empty out the rest of his glass. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m a good judge of character.”

You blinked at him a few times before smiling. What a simple yet profound way of establishing trust.

Thankfully for him, he was right, and any of his secrets would die with you.

“Well, I’ve got to get these back over there, so…” You lifted the tray and glanced at the table at the far end of the cantina.

Hunter nodded and pushed himself off the bartop. You prepared to bid him farewell, but instead, he lingered. “I’ll clear a path for you this time.”

All you could muster was an appreciative glance before Hunter stepped forward and essentially pushed your way through the crowd. No one even got near you this time, certainly not close enough to make the drinks topple over. Hunter hung back once you eventually reached the table, and you quietly thanked him as you passed him.

“Here you are.” You kept your customer service voice engaged as you dealt out the drinks and smiled. “Sorry about the wait. It’s a bit crazy here tonight.”

The patrons just shrugged, clearly unaware of the extra few minutes you spent flirting with the enhanced clone trooper rather than making their drinks. You tucked the tray under your arm and turned around, surprised to see that Hunter was still there waiting for you.

You gave him another once-over. That drink stain on his shirt really stuck out like a bantha in a porg nest, if it was even possible for anyone’s eyes to get past his eyes, face, and arms.

The look he was giving you in return was either saying the same thing about your clothes or something very different, a little more similar to what you wanted him to be thinking.

“You know,” you took a step closer to him, “we should have some extra tunics from our uniforms in the back if you want one to cover…” you gazed down at his stain, “that.”

Hunter’s gaze glowed dangerously. “Oh, yeah?”

You nodded slowly. “I mean, we could at least check.”

Hunter smirked as he echoed your question from earlier. “We’?”

You waved him off. “It’s too crazy here tonight for anyone to care that you’re back there.”

Hunter shrugged. Apparently, he was easily convinced. “Alright. Where’re we headed?”

You pointed at a door on the back wall, and Hunter nodded before he pushed through the crowd once again. At this point, it was hard to imagine that he wasn’t listening to your heart practically flying through your chest. You didn’t even know why this was happening, especially so fast, but you had to echo Hunter’s earlier sentiment: you were a good judge of character.

What was one stolen moment with an enhanced clone trooper?

Hunter stepped aside to let you key in the passcode on the doorway of the storage room, and once it slid open, you led the way inside. After verifying that you were alone, you waved Hunter in. The door closed behind him, and after securing it, you turned to him.

It would’ve been impossible to get a good look at him in the dimness of the space, anyway, but you were both gravitating to each other before any looks could be given. You cupped his chiseled jaw at the exact moment he held your waist, closing the gap between the two of you and giving into the magnetic pull that had first forced you two together in the night’s rowdy crowds.

And you had never been more grateful for two egotistical maniacs’ stupid quarrel before.

Hunter kissed you like he’d known you for ages, exuding a breathless amount of passion that should’ve been impossible for a soldier as seasoned as himself. All you could do was try to match that energy, parting your lips and surely making a mess of the hair he clearly wanted to grow beyond what you assumed was regulation. You let one hand stay there, but the other was too curious, tracing the same lines of muscle your eyes had been beholden to ever since you first saw him.

During a quick break for air, you pulled back until you hit the wall behind you, this time urging him even closer than before. The second his mouth was on yours, you lost all sense of anything else, only able to think about the warmth you found there—and the feeling of his hips caressing yours in the very same rhythm.

You weren’t sure exactly how those senses of his worked, but somehow, he was igniting every single one of yours in a way you’d never experienced before.

You were in the middle of lowering your hands from his neck to seek a more fervent exploration when he caught both your wrists, holding them in an achingly gentle yet firm grasp as he lifted them over your own head. When he pushed himself into you even more intensely, his tongue in your mouth and his hips on yours, you could feel it so much more without being distracted by touching the rest of him.

Yeah, this was definitely a man who understood senses.

You were stuck between proposing and offering him all your possessions when the sudden chiming of a comlink sounded from Hunter’s belt. The two of you broke apart with heavy breaths, his forehead still close enough to yours for you to feel the wisps of his hair brushing against your skin as he clearly fought the urge to sigh.

“Sorry. Give me just a second.”

Hunter’s voice, which was already fairly rough as it was, was even rougher from your passionate moment as he released your wrists and stepped away. You couldn’t have stopped watching him even if you wanted to as he unclipped the comlink and activated it.

“Tech, report.”

“I have acquired the necessary data.” You raised your brow at the voice that spoke on the other end of Hunter’s comm. They sounded even less like a clone than Hunter himself did. “We may make our egress, unless there is any additional research you wish to pursue.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a loose end I want to tie up.” You scoffed at that. Loose end? “We'll meet back at the Marauder.”

“Affirmative.”

Hunter sighed as he set the comlink back on his belt. “Sorry about that.” He ran a hand over his head. “Duty calls.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Gotta’ tie up your loose end, now.”

Hunter froze before he let out a heavy exhale. “Kriff, that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t help laughing. “Hey, you’ve done better than most by catching it so fast.”

Hunter chuckled and stepped back over to you. “Here.”

He took something from his belt and reached for your hand, setting it inside your palm and closing your fist around it. It was something circular and metallic, judging by how cool it was against your skin.

“To keep in touch.” Hunter nodded at you. “Next time, the drink’s on me.”

“It was technically already on you this time.” You gestured with your eyes to his stained shirt.

Hunter huffed with amusement. “You know what I mean.”

You smiled at him. “Sure.”

You opened the door for him, and he stopped to give you a wink you wouldn’t miss this time before he disappeared into the thick of the crowd. You leaned your shoulder against the threshold, staring down at the communicator in your grasp. Biting back a smile, you slipped it inside your pocket.

Maybe there was an advantage to the war getting a little closer, after all.

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020 @singularattitudeofasafetypin

#i had no idea what to call this but. here we are. everyone say thank the tbb comic crumbs!#tbb hunter #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #dindjarindiaries

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sinfulsalutations · 9 months ago

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𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ꜰᴇʀᴀʟ+ʜᴏʀɴʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ, ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 9.1ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ - ᴇᴛʜᴇʟ ᴄᴀɪɴ, ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ - ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ

⋆ ★ … ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴀɢɢᴇʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ. ɪ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ ᴏꜰ 2023 ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜʜʜʜ ᴏᴏᴘꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ 10ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ʏᴀʏ? ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Despite the gradual (yet quite quick, in retrospect) increment of your feelings toward the skilled soldier, you do, in fact, notice the blunt sexual appeal of Hunter when you first meet Clone Force 99.

It’s difficult not to; with his long hair you can’t quite place how the Kaminoans allow him to have, the striking skull tattoo, his toned body, and discernable shape even through the heavy armor, you can’t help but flutter your eyelashes and rock your feet back and forth like you’re a schoolgirl all over again. Hunter is the Bad Batch’s essential leader, the closest in appearance to the rivaled ‘regs,’ leading them as their Sergeant and CT-9901, and he stands out more than any other clone you’ve interacted with.

His warm, welcoming, yet slightly wary smile is just as firm as the handshake he gives you when you first meet him, leaning down a little to your height (you’d think clone defects would be the same height, or maybe even shorter than a veritable trooper, but instead you feel enveloped by his vertical. Not that you don’t enjoy the feeling, of course) and nodding firmly.

Then you hear his voice.

It’s only a short sentence; a brief introduction and warm gratitude for joining them as their medic before you acquaint yourself with the rest of the squad. But your ears wrap around the waves of his rough, musky baritone like a magnet. Everything feels as though it’s finally clicked into place and created the perfect picture of your desired man.

Your mind immediately begins to create dreamy rhetoric, wondering silly things to yourself.

Had your mind been aimlessly wandering the galaxy for this long, circling like materials until you finally found an opposite —An opposite so charmingly rugged?

The feeling that rushes through you feels so destined.

Lucky for you, Hunter seems to express his commands frequently with his voice; sometimes hushed through a link, the vibrations of your comm humming pleasantly between the soft undersides of your fingers as he talks.

It always during the times when you’re deep past enemy lines, taking down clankers more efficiently than a Starfleet. Initially too, as you were still trying to memorize their master list of designated plans and being weighed down by the extra weight of regulation armor.

“Don’t go through there yet. Squad of clankers waiting for us.”

“You sure, Hunter? I don’t hear any steps.”

“Take it from the person with enhanced hearing, little medic. Just wait for me.”

Other times when he speaks to you, it’s thunderous commands; ones that he yells out across a field or war front. It frightens you at first, your shoulders jolting and hands instinctively clamping over your ears to deafen the noise, but you quickly realize he’s ordering you to act. Once you get used to the intensity, you come to equally enjoy and indulge how his voice takes on a new edge in fleeting moments of urgency and demand; a once blissful burning of wood turning into threatening crackles, and from there a bleeding forest fire.

“Wrecker, move in! Now, now! Crosshair, how’s the bird's view looking?”

It’s incredibly embarrassing how something as simple as his voice can leave you this breathless. Even from the snide comments he can’t seem to help himself from saying when Wrecker retells stories to you, either from their days as shinies and cadets to missions where you stayed back on the Marauder. Between Tech’s rambling and Wrecker’s enthusiastic narration, the sound of Hunter’s voice becomes even more of a calming sedative to you.

Though it equally arouses you in other moments.

How his morning voice is somehow even lower and raspier than his regular tone is a study that must be researched and conducted by only the galaxy’s best scientists. It seems just so impossible, unbelievable; none of it is inauthentic either—the grogginess is always equally spread through his body, from his tired slouch and ruffled hair, lolling eyes, the unkempt composition of the clothes hung over his broad shoulders and slim waist. It’s unspoken the things you might do if you felt there was even the slimmest chance of starting your every day with that sound so deep and lovely right in your ear.

When he addresses you directly before you both allow yourself the time to sleep, asking you to check on old injuries or patch up new ones he got on the last mission. He always manages to get hurt in the most menial yet bothersome ways, and you’re once again forced into close proximity; you’re beginning to consider paying a few scientists and investigators to study the sexy phenomenon that is Hunter. But either way, you sit legs crossed at the ankles in the cockpit, forcing yourself to zone out on anything he might be saying every few minutes so you don’t have to squirm and change your position in your seat every so often and prevent showing how damn flustered and hot he makes you; in more places than just your cheeks and ears.

In flitting moments you get time to relish in his conjured wavelength, take in the scene you can create with just the sound of his voice; he transports you to a world of the dark morning fog, the red of his bandana the most vibrant sight in your nearest vision as he takes you on the forest floor just like that, no civil thoughts daring to come to each of your minds as he finally gives you the relief you crave for in real life.

Your depraved fantasy of Hunter is all you can dream of when you sit yourself on your fingers, holding back as many of the impoverished whines you wish to let out due to your true desperation for such an attractive man.

And the sweet indulgences you luxuriate in make you selfish. You want more, need to know how he’d sound grunting, moaning your name while his cock lay on your tongue. Or how the oscillations of his words feel on your inner thighs, against your clit when he pushes his fingers past your tight barrier. There’s much more you could learn, could explore if you could attempt an advance. Or simply given something more than slight moments of suggestion that he might have the same deviant desires as you to allow the green light.

You’ve yet to receive such signals. And flimsy fantasies, the work of your fingers to chase unattainable pleasure, and insistent memorization of his voice can only keep you quenched for so long.

“Hunter,” The inadvertent, pathetic whine crawls up your throat the moment you feel his breath on your neck, lingering over your skin even as he pulls back after hearing the noise you make.

“Just a little more,” He reassures you. The hand not firmly gripping your wrist pats your shoulder, and your cheeks flush at the passing fondness. “Let’s try to get one more shot on target and we’ll call it quits, how does that sound?”

With the warmth of your flushed face spreading to the rest of your body, you mutter,

“Sounds good,”

and try to softly shake off your arousal, eyes zeroing in on the middle of the tree, the finger hovering over the trigger surprisingly still. You’re about to take the shot before he starts instructing you again.

“Fix your foot stance,” Hunter gently guides your legs apart with one of his own, fixing the positioning of your feet planted onto the dirt and you take in a deeper breath than you intend to. The fire kindle of his voice and the fire kindle of your core are equal matches now; the husk of his chunked honey tone will certainly turn you to mush if he continues any further, it feels.

Really, how does this oblivious, heart-seizing bastard expect you to keep your focus on this pointless shooting practice when he’s got you this compromised?

“Try again now,” he says after he’s got you in the position he wants. You huff again, letting the fiery stimulation fall to your diaphragm, and breathe down your arousal. Just one hit on the target and you’ll be free of this torture.

But as you lift your arm again, eyes narrowing closer and closer to your prize, the imminent feeling of his leg between yours rears its head. You become so incredibly, annoyingly aware of it, and grimace, biting your lip softly and knitting your eyebrows together to fully get him out of your mind and body. You tug on your bottom lip and pull the trigger.

The bullet lands left side.

A deep groan of frustration leaves you; it sounds much quieter with Hunter’s rumble and grunt in your ear. You gently pull away from his grasp, handing him the blaster, and turn to face him directly. And when you catch that damned expression you promptly decide that you don’t like to see him disappointed; at least, it looks as though he’s disappointed. Eyebrows pinched together with the smallest frown, his chin curled into himself as he looks down at you (Maybe you should look into research for lawyers in the case of when you sue Hunter for the neck pain he’s caused).

“It’s alright,” He assures you, but it doesn’t feel right. And from the way he looks at you, it’s not alright.

“No, it isn’t,” You tell him exactly that, your fingers curling and interlocking together by your stomach. His eyes dart down for a brief moment of scanning, and they don’t linger too long; Maker, you wish you had the power for your eyes not to glue to him and his absolute stature instantly when you enter a space. “I should be better at this by now.”

Hunter clicks his tongue and turns away, as if deep in swirling thought. His gaze comes back to you before you know it.

“You should be,” He agrees, but nothing is degrading or critical in his voice. In his eyes, the wave of gentleness that cascades and shifts his expression, there’s unconditional empathy that you do not deserve and he wouldn’t grace you with if he were to know what you beg him to do to you in your dreams.

“We can try again,” You then insist, but Hunter quickly shakes his head.

“We’ve been working on this for an hour,” He tells you, slickly spinning the blaster back into his holster. He sounds tired as well, a new jaggedness in the smoke tendrils of his voice. “That’s more than enough practice.”

“But I just want to–”

“I know.”

Somehow, those words are more devastating than anything else he’s said. You look back and catch the mysterious glint in his eye, almost as elusive as his words might connotate on a foggy day.

“Trust me,” He continues. You don’t even realize his hand has wandered and softly taken your chin between two fingers until you feel the soft pads brush against your skin; your jaw slacks. He pinches your chin a little tighter to ensure your eyes are fixed on him. “You just want to prove yourself.”

Well, of course, you think to yourself vindictively. It’s enough that you feel ever-so-slightly out of place in a squad of clone troopers, let alone defective ones; not being able to properly handle a blaster in the mere presence of your crush is even more embarrassing. How juvenile.

“We can try again another time. But you’re tired. I can feel it,” He continues. There’s the slightest hint of gentleness you only pick up on because of how you hone all your focus on dissecting and admiring every single crevice of his articulations. Suddenly, he drops your chin, and your head lolls back into place, rather sloppily, and you look up through your eyelashes. “Time for us to sleep, I think.”

With that, Hunter whips around and heads toward the ramp to the Marauder. You’re left there with a smarting jaw, discreetly trying to rub your legs together and take the heat out of the area.

“Alright,” You sigh, glancing around before trotting after him, the white noise keeping your thoughts off of the man in front of you.

Yet, you still picture what his knee had felt like parting your thighs open only half an hour later. Attempting to recreate it with your arm and then your pillow, you give yourself a foggy release and whimper a jumbled version of his name into your pillow before drifting off, body still buzzing with frustration.

The next week, as if the weeks and months before weren’t as excruciating, is pure sexual torture. Not to say it’s entirely filled with frustration and dull aching, however. When you and Hunter have a moment of silence, alone by the cots or the engine or the cockpit together, you both relax into the same, comfortable silence that fills the time.

It’s better to have him not running his mouth off, for sure. You still have to deal with it on deployments and missions, but it’s manageable when you’re knocking down clankers or trying to listen to Tech’s very confusing instructions on how to fly the plane to a certain location to pick them up. But he’s allowing the silence to fester between you two. All the better to preserve the actual sweet, steady relationship you have aside from your fiery attraction, you think.

Hey, it could be worse.

But then the dumbass decides to get himself injured. Get pushed into and dragged against hard durasteel, leaving a gash across his stomach that could challenge Wrecker’s spiderweb scars in its damage. Your jaw practically drops when they return and you see the wound out in the open; you can’t stop yourself before you lurch forward with worried eyes and grasp his wrist around your fingers, pushing him down onto a bench.

As Tech pilots the ship off the planet, the rest all recline and lick their minuscule wounds beside him, while you and Hunter remain cramped in the back, avoiding his gaze and praying to the Maker that he keeps his voice to quiet rough grunts of pain as you try to unclip each different plate of his armor and lay them neatly beside him, tutting when more of his wound is revealed to you.

”Oh my goodness, oh my goodness ohmygoodness,” You stammer to yourself, more and more strained with each breath you take, peeling off the tarnished fabric of his blacks.

“It’s not too bad,” He argues with a soft grin, which slowly fades away when you glare.

“Don’t,” You retort, firm and simple, flashing a genuine look of empathy, and even a drip of fear. If you didn’t know any better, you might think Hunter practically melts under your look with how he slumps and his expression droops. But he’s still an oblivious, sexy fool, you remind yourself.

You don’t even have the energy to fawn over how incredibly attractive he sounds with the rough baritone and anguished sigh-like tone he wears; you instead scramble to open the first aid kit. You can feel his gaze set selectively on you and it doesn’t help. In the corner of your eye, he tilts his head.

“Is everything alright?”

You nod automatically.

“Everything is fine.”

The Marauder jostles in rough air; the ship tilts, your stomach dropping with the altitude change, and you’re unwantedly yanked onto Hunter’s lap with a yelp.

You still for a moment, waiting for the ship to steady again before you become acutely aware of how your chest is almost completely pressed up onto his face. And how your knees are caged over his thighs, your pelvis way too close to his wound for each of your comfort. And pressure against your waist, not too firm but still weighting you to his body–wait, is Hunter holding you to him?

Your eyes widen and you stumble off, stammering nonsensically and afraid to gaze upon his face. You don’t for a long moment, before grabbing the disinfectant and pouring it onto a cloth.

Silence festers between the two of you. When Hunter does speak, it’s not to you.

“Tech! Get her steady, would you?” He yells across the ship, vexed and evidently not in an ideal mood. Tech immediately retorts in his typical, inappropriately casual, intellectual tone,

“That is not a light request, Hunter. I am already trying.”

Hunter scoffs and you finally get the gall to look at him. He exchanges a mutual look of annoyance and manages to grin wider for you. The sight soothes your frayed ends ever so slightly, and you stare down at his stomach again at the wound, biting your lip as you inspect the damage.

Your hands come to the hem of his blacks and you give him a silent ask with your eyes.

“Is it alright if I take this off?”

He hums, which you take as a yes, and you slowly peel it off of his skin, trying very, very hard to ensure your stare doesn’t linger. He looks at you with a mysterious gaze that's too hard to place for your liking. But you just try and shake it off as you slowly dab his wound with the bacta-dipped cloth, pressing it firm against the injury.

When he hisses, you perk up with wide eyes.

“Did that hurt?”

Hunter clenches his teeth and nods slowly, and you pull away with shaky hands. His arms reach out, encircling his fingers around your wrist, and guides them back tenderly.

“It’s alright,” He says, his tone dropping down an octave as your hands tremble again in his grasp. You gain the courage to look up at him, biting your lip softly. The grin he wears manages to soothe your nerves, just a little. “I’ve got you, girl. Just let me guide you so you don’t hurt me.”

You let out a shaky exhale of relief, and he sighs, dipping his chin down, but keeping the intense eye contact.

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” You squeak, the rise and fall of your chest the only constant managing to soothe your fried senses. After a couple of breaths, you finish your thought. “Better.” You press onto a side of his wound, softly spreading the bacta onto it; your eyes don’t separate from his once. “How’s that?”

He huffs, not of frustration or annoyance, but more a comforting relief.

"Fine. Keep going."

The rasp stirs between the space between the two of you, and you take a deep breath before you can do anything else.

With the firm grasp on your wrists and the low tendrils of his voice softly directing you, you continue to tend to his wound, your hands moving deftly over his skin. The thick, intoxicating tension in the air is palpable; the lingering silence between you weighs heavy despite your best attempts to snap yourself out of it and take care of him like you're supposed to.

It's not your fault he just sounds so damn sexy all the time.

"Careful, careful," He tuts when you're stitching up a particularly bad spot, pressing your fingers around the skin and holding it there as you thread the stitch through. "Just a little gentler, please."

Then, "Avoid that spot, please. I can't even-- shit -- breathe without it hurting. Just stitch around it. Yeah, just like that. Good job, little medic," As you're finishing up.

Once you finish wrapping the bandage firmly over the wound and around his waist, taping it firmly to him, he dislodges his fingers from where it's wrapped around your wrist, bringing it to your chin and manhandling you slightly to get a better look into your eyes.

"See, ‘wasn't so bad, was it?" He flashes you a grin, obviously masking the pain etching into his limbs, all to calm your nerves. The fact that he's making such a constant effort to make you feel better despite his state makes you positively soft. "You did great."

You grin back, nodding and averting your eyes.

"Thank you."

There's a pause before he bludgeons you with his next sentence.

"You enjoy getting instructions."

Your eyes widen; you almost drop the first aid kit; everything stills, your chest tight as you process his words. Shit, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

"Wh--What?" You stammer, taking a small step backward and tilting your head to appear more confused and insulted by the accusation. Maybe if you appear offended, he’ll take it back. "Who said that?"

"You don’t need to say it. I can feel it," He continues, gaze thoughtfully fixated on you. He doesn't even falter when you seem to panic. "I can see it." You try to gawk at him to make him feel stupid, make him retract what he's saying, but either he's so certain or you don't seem very convincing.

No matter; you're still fucked.

"You like getting told what to do."

Your heart pounds, and Hunter just sits there, legs spread leisurely, his eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. Seriously, what does he expect you to answer with? Does he want you to fess up and admit how depraved and desperate you are for his touch, then run off mortified to never speak to him again? Surely he doesn’t expect you to take.

Defeated, you sigh and softly run your hands over your work again, avoiding his burning gaze.

"Only from you," you mutter, then immediately pray devotedly to the Maker he doesn't hear. Hunter hums, a tone of question in his voice, then you proceed to figuratively jump off a cliff as you remember this fucker has enhanced senses.

"Why’s that, mesh’la?" He asks. Instinctively, your eyebrows knit together when the new nickname graces your ears.

"What does mesh’la mean?"

Hunter doesn't seem very phased. Can't you just throw him off his rhythm once?

"Don’t worry about that," He quickly excuses your question as a distraction from the question at hand. "But tell me why you only enjoy getting instructions from me."

There's something smug to the way he talks, hidden behind insistent concern and curiosity.

"Why’s that, tell me."

Your hand comes up to hide your face, but he takes it and keeps it away from disfiguring his view of your expression. You want to babble; you can feel your face heating up. Instead, you frown.

"I, uh," You try to discreetly rub your thighs together languidly, easing the tension and buildup of heat in between them. A huff leaves his lips that sounds oddly close to a chuckle.

"Come on," You lift your head, perplexed for a split moment, but then he pats the top of his thigh. You blink once, then twice, then another time for good measure, just to make sure you're seeing correctly. Is he... what's he even implying?

"Sit down. On my lap."

Oh. That’s what.

Your mouth opens, a strange sound bordering on a choke leaving your throat as you try to retort or deny him. He only raises his eyebrows and dips his chin down, gesturing toward his lap again.

You huff, eyebrows knitted, and take a small step toward him, slowly, and you envelop his figure, trapping his legs between your knees and careening slightly, hands still meeting at your stomach, unsure of where to move. He nods encouragingly.

“Good job, just like that,” He praises you, hands slowly rising to rest on the handles of your hips, fingers tracing your waist. You take a sharp intake of breath, eyes drifting down to where your bodies meet, and look back up at him again. Hunter’s wearing this oh-so-innocent, deer-in-headlights expression you know is bantha-shit. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?”

You sough vindictively, averting your eyes.

“Stop teasing me.”

He laughs— though it’s more of a snarky, yet affectionate chuckle. You feel so naked in his presence, given such focused, vehement attention.

“I’m not teasing. Just concerned,” He tells you. The problem is, Hunter does well making you think he’s actually this clueless when he does know and just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Mhm,” You hum sarcastically with a pout.

He manages to grin at you, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he looks at you. You let your eyes come back to him.

“I can do both, can’t I?” He offers.

“Sure,” You retort.

Squinting his eyes, he casually rubs his hands up and down the sides of your body.

“I’ll figure it out, one way or another,” He affirms, ending the sentence with a wink; you take a deep breath, letting your jaw slack. Hunter keeps talking like there’s nothing thick in the air between you.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.”

You furrow your eyebrows; he pouts like an upset child. Chastising, you huff and do as he says. When your hands shake slightly, he continues giving you instructions. They are so simple, yet they seem so alluring and nuanced in this context. In his voice.

”Steady yourself. Yeah, like that. Good.”

You wiggle your hips slightly, and something boils in his stomach slightly, something bordering on a groan. Your legs are warming up but you have no way to close them and satiate yourself. So all you can do is squirm.

Hunter perks up in concern.

“Are you comfortable?”

You take a moment to respond but then nod.

“Good.” Hunter grins softly, patting your left hip. For a moment, he decides to rake his eyes over you appreciatively, almost in the same way you do when you assume he isn’t looking. “I’m glad.”

Offering a civil smile of mutual understanding, you wiggle your hips, trying to find a better position if you’re going to be compromised on his lap.

”Trail your hands down for me.”

It's hard to deny or disobey him with a voice like that, especially when you know it’s directed toward you. So you slowly let your hands slip from his shoulders and descend his chest and torso.

“Yeah, down,” He encourages you when you reach the top of his wrapped wound. “Maybe try to avoid the gash.”

You lift your hands and let only the pads of your fingers place feather-light touches over the wrapping. When your hands begin to tremble again the further you descend, reaching his pelvis, he tuts to stop you. “That’s a good place to stop.”

You look up again with wide eyes, trying to stop your erratic (embarrassing) trembles and tilt your head. There’s more he’s going to say. At least it seems so.

“Whenever you’re ready, put your hand over my crotch.” He gives you a soft look of reassurance, making sure you’re completely comfortable in this position, before finishing. “I want you to feel me.”

Gasping softly, you pull your hand away, fingers curling into your palm and gripping tightly. A shiver runs through you, and you can’t seem to figure out if it’s from shock or pleasure.

“What?” You begin, eyes flitting from his face and back. “H-Hunter, I shouldn’t.”

“I’m asking you to.” Polite insistence is the game he plays. If this truly is a trap, you might happily fall if it means you get to touch him. He runs his hands over your curves again. “I want you to.”

You tense further, something bordering on fear in your eyes. Hunter notices and frowns while he clarifies:

“Unless you don’t want it. ‘Cause then… we can stop. No hard feelings…”

You can see how he’s getting lost in his thoughts. For a split moment, that perfect composure he holds in your presence fractures; he seems insecure and nervous; anticipating inevitable rejection because he’s pushed you too far.

That isn’t the case.

As you finally press your palm to his bulge, you contain your gasp. He’s big. And so hard.

“Fuck,” He groans, head tilting back. “Feel that?”

Oh kriff, that rumble. It’s warm and smooth yet rough all the same, creeping its way over your skin until you’re forced to keep the faintest whimper from leaving your throat. You string your lips tight and nod.

“Mhm,” Is the only thing that manages to leave your mouth, whiny and soft. You palm him further, as if the fabric would simply tear away and you could finally feel his skin on yours. He hums again, and you’re left looking doe-eyed in his direction. “Shit, Hunter.”

He throws a heavy statement onto you.

“It’s my voice, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head up, containing the urge to gasp.

“What?”

“What’s making you so hot and bothered,” He continues. You want to look away, hide your face in your hands with humiliating embarrassment, but you’re trembling so much on top of him that you can’t even flit your eyes away. “You like my voice. And you like it when I tell you what to do.”

You gasp lightly when you feel his warm hand on your thigh. Your cunt twitches and it really shouldn’t. He’s barely doing anything.

“Well,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to deny it?”

The answer is delivered non-verbally. You relax into his lap, palm pressing further to his bulge, and then you squeeze oh so gently. That heavenly groan graces your ears and you devoutly catalog it into your mind for later recollection.

His chin dips down to catch a glimpse of your hand before he meets your eyes.

“Mesh’la,” he says; even without knowing what it means, just hearing how he speaks with such beguile and worship tells all that you need to know. “Mesh’la… can you do something for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Anything,” You stammer out with a slack jaw, far too enthusiastic. Hunter doesn’t seem to regard it as anything distorting the absolute utmost respect that he must feel while he has you in his lap with your hand on his dick.

“Slip your pants off.”

It’s practically instinctual how efficiently you gingerly push yourself off of his lap and follow his order. With your hands chastely placed above your waistband, you let your thumbs push past, then await Hunter to grant you to pull them off. His eyes dilate with the view, and he nods.

The pants find their way to the ground clumsily, and you cringe internally at your lack of grace, but when you finally catch sight of Hunter’s expression, perhaps it’s nothing to worry about.

He looks… starved. Hypnotized by the splendor in front of him, for his eyes and his hands and his body only to touch, feel, hold, take.

“You’re… fuck,” he sighs, sounding out of breath, as though you’d just swept his leg and taken him off his feet. His hand methodically strokes up and down his thigh, only lightly grazing the tent in his pants as he takes his eyes over how you look, over and over again.

“You’re stunning,” he finally manages to say. His hand stops stroking to pat his thigh lightly, and his voice simmers in a way you know is on purpose. “C’mere, sit on my lap again.”

“Are you sure?” You ask for permission despite rocking your feet back and forth to shimmy your way back. As you gesture toward the bandages wrapped around his middle, Hunter huffs and frowns with miffed frustration. “You’re still injured.”

Hunter gripes to himself as he pushes himself up, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you to the free space between his two hard, firm thighs. His dexterity surprises you. The warmth radiating from his body does even more.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Oh.

Shit.

He looks the part, certainly; you only try to feel the faintest tremble of his fingers when his hands float away from your hips to sit on the top of his legs again,

“Okay,” You mutter aimlessly, reaching up to your face to brush your hair away in a measly attempt to look more presentable. Your voice is just a squeaky little thing, and it’s so incredibly humiliating. “Okay…”

“It’s alright,” Hunter tries to soothe you, and you breathe shallowly.

“I know that.” Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you heave. “I just…”

Before you’re able to process what’s happening, Hunter’s reaching a hand out to cup your face. Despite the coarseness of his skin, his callouses fall on your cheek, it’s so tender, and you melt into his touch.

“Do you need some guidance, little medic?”

With a slight whine, you nod, letting your lashes flutter. Hunter lets his thumb swipe over your bottom lip, and your mouth parts. He grins at your unprompted compliance.

“Then let me tell you what to do. Let me tell you how to touch yourself and make you come from that, and my voice too.”

A depraved noise is choked out of you.

“Fuck,” your head careens to the side, but his firm hold on the side of your face keeps your gaze on him. His grin turns more into a cheeky smirk.

“How does that sound?” He asks. You nod adamantly before he tries to change his mind, so worried that he’ll push you away at any moment. As though he can read your mind, the hand that was still on the back of your thigh takes a gentle squeeze before trailing up your body, taking appreciative feels of your ass and hips before settling on your waist again.

“Mm…” You hum, reveling in the sensation. “Really good.”

Hunter gives you a half-crooked smile, and you want to cuss him out, or yourself, you’re not sure who to be fed up with.

“Come on, little medic,” He urges you on, patting your hip. “Slip your hand down your panties.”

Wordlessly, you let a trembling hand descend down your body. You have little dignity left in you to try and make yourself appear more seductive, but you hope your image isn’t so repulsive. The moment your fingertips make contact with your heat, your fingers grazing over your mons and clit, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

Hunter tilts his head.

“How does it feel? Are you wet?”

He should know already, smug bastard.

“Yeah,” you nod, keening further into his touch when he tilts his chin down, leaning toward your ear.

He takes a gentle lick, so light that if you weren’t in his grasp you wouldn’t have noticed.

“How wet?”

Your hips instinctively buck to rub yourself over your hand, a rush of arousal washing over you.

“Re–“ You swallow a wad of spit sitting on your tongue. “Really wet.”

Hunter’s lips are gentle when they undulate as he speaks oh so close to your ear, quiet and warm, words just for you.

“Just from my voice?” When he asks this time, you don’t detect much smugness; he wants the confirmation and credibility for a foundation of fact he’s built for himself.

You nod, but add on more.

“Not just that.”

“Hm?” His dark rumble travels down your spine and you squirm with pleasant upheaval. Your hand is still awkwardly lodged down your panties with nothing to do.

“Tell me more,” he demands with an assuasive croon. With one last kitten lick that lingers on the shell of your ear, he allows his lips to wander, mouthing against your skin, leaving delicate kisses on your temple, your jaw, and any moles and freckles in his nearest vicinity while he awaits your answer.

“I, uh,” you begin, awaiting to land on a coherent stream of words loosely strung together to fall on your tongue. “your—“

Just as you feel something begin to tie, your gaze drops down. Hunter palms his full erection over his blacks, languidly as though without a care, and the thought of him being aroused by this, aroused by you, slaps your mind into a render less zone.

“—fuck.”

He chuckles right in your damn face, and Maker he’s just too pretty not to kiss. But you resist the temptation with the festering worry of crossing the barrier past simple attraction into affection.

So you swallow slow and hard and try to compose a sentence.

“Your, face—“

Yeah, real eloquent, idiot.

“—That skull tattoo, it’s, well, shit…”

Your tongue wraps around itself again, words becoming more and more hard to piece together the longer you think about it. All that your primal mind begs you to think of is the olympic man presented under you, and the heat that radiates off the both of you.

“Alright now, you don’t have to continue,” Hunter huffs with no real malice contained in his words. It still makes you cringe nonetheless.

“That bad?” You ask with a clenched jaw.

A simple head shake is all you receive, but it’s more than enough to sedate a growing burn in the pit of your stomach. The hand not pressed to his crotch gently holds your hip, thumb swiping over your panties and bare skin; he even dares to let it slip past the waistband. The accurate awareness of your hand pressed to your pussy returns to you.

“Don’t want you to focus your energy on that,” he clarifies, eyes looking into yours with a softness you’ve never associated with Hunter. You’d find it peculiar in a regular conversation, but everything about this interaction has been anything but normal.

You suddenly realize you’re at a loss again. “So what do you want me to do?” You ask because you feel humiliated just straddling him like this.

Hunter puffs out his chest and you prepare yourself for the worst.

A coarse hand presses to your navel, trailing up underneath your shirt to sketch an image of your body underneath, stopping right where “Rub your pussy for me.”

It’s worded like a demand, but he voices it as though it’s a request. Your body wants to tense and retract, but the palm spread over the expanse of your stomach prevents you.

“You can do that,” Hunter encourages you, almost as though you were a creature he’s saddled on to ride. Though in this instance, you’d much rather be the one to ride. “Can’t you? For me?”

With a huff, you look away and nod bashfully. It’s wordless when you begin to move your hand, let your fingers get soaked as they rub up and down, up and down… you’re almost too tense to really feel the sensation, but Hunter’s doting gaze and his firm hand on your stomach keep you grounded. As you collect slick, running your fingers through your folds, it takes heavy petting for you to relax your jaw and let out the most pleasantly pathetic whimper.

Hunter groans, adding fuel to the flame flourishing in your pants, a dark sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, forewarning something much more devastating.

“Yeah, just like that,” he encourages you in that same husky tone following the groan. “Rock your hips too.”

You do so diligently, using your palm to press against your clit as a foundation for the rest of your hand to move leisurely while you rock your hips into himself. Hunter’s hand retracts from your stomach, fingers curling into his palms as he lets his knuckles graze against your skin. When you shiver, he takes it as an invitation to shush you gently against your temple, before his hand falls to your waist again.

The moment you glance down, you have to tip your chin back with an ascendant sigh. He’s got his hand over his clothed erection, palming it with a firm hand, almost absentmindedly as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Fuck, Hunter…” The desperate, embarrassing whimper comes out of you far more loud than you intend. Hunter shushes you gently.

“Keep quiet for me,” he commands; how are you meant to be by him when he speaks like that?

“Good?” He then asks, seemingly seeking approval good enough for him to continue. “Do I sound as good as you imagined?”

You want to say yes, declare it to the entire galaxy, and tell him just how wonderful this man is, but you’re far too overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations disrupting your thought process. So instead you nod.

That seems to satisfy Hunter, and the smallest smirk curls on his lips as he watches you squirm and rock your hips into your hands.

“Don’t you as well.”

With a hum, you try to dismiss the comment. But only as you let it sit does the implication of his words sink to your stomach. But he doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, it seems, as he continues,

“I want you to keep touching yourself. Do whatever you need to for me. Whatever makes you come.”

He pats his incredibly intimidating bulge as though it’s an invitation.

“Right here, on my lap.”

You resist the dizzyness that threatens to overtake your senses, but as you steady your breaths, you suddenly feel so exposed. Far too exposed compared to Hunter.

So you try to level the playing field.

“Would you… er…”

If only your words could come out correctly. Hunter raises an eyebrow, perked with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Hm?” He hums.

You grunt and attempt again to tunnel out the words. Like a plow shoveling out snow or sand.

“It—It feels unfair that I’m the only one here getting off.”

You wince as you finish the sentence. Maker, you sound so clunky and awkward. So much for being seductive.

But Hunter hums with total compliance, letting his hand trail up to where his bottoms cling to his skin.

“‘Guess you’re right.” Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Hunter peels back the waistband of his blacks, letting his hand slip through to free his cock from underneath the garments.

You think you’ve been knocked out for a healthy minute when you get a proper look. You’d never imagine describing a cock as pretty, but just like everything else, Hunter may become an exception. His fingers curl around the base with rather ease, before reaching up with it to his chin. He opens his mouth, letting a wad of spit collect and drop onto his palm, allowing him to stroke his cock with a more slick movement.

Maker, he’s so… so…

No, that can’t be right. His cock is far too thick for his hand to wrap around it so easily. But then you remember his proportions, especially compared to yours. A small chuckle leaves you when you imagine how you might try to wrap a full hand around his length.

Hunter leisurely strokes himself, eyes set on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach leap bounds up to your chest.

“Now it’s more fair, little medic,” he says. “Don’t you think?”

You nod adamantly with no hesitation.

“Yeah, yeah…” Your fingers deftly move to trap your clit between your index and middle, your mouth falling open when you feel the pressure hum over you. “Shit.”

Hunter huffs with a smugly saccharine look, his hand slowly stroking up and down his cock, lingering at the tip before he returns down again.

“You look really good like this.”

You tilt your head and grunt in disbelief. It’s hard to believe him when you feel simultaneously so powerful and so humiliated. Even though he’s just as physically exposed as you, you still feel more vulnerable.

“Do I now?” Despite being sarcastic, you try not to come off too mean.

But then Hunter sighs out the most exasperated, “ Fuck yeah,” his chin tipping upwards as he gathers his breath, tongue darting out to lick his lips, eyes half closed while he squeezes the tip of his dick, and you’re left render less to your own attraction again.

He seems to see the disbelief in your eyes.

“Don’t you believe me, mesh’la?” He asks. You remain still. “You really need me to spell out just how hot you look right now? How sexy .”

“Hunter,” you whine.

He continues without regarding you.

“I’m trying so hard not to— fuck—“ he tenses his stomach as he tries to compose himself. “—just blow my load right now. You’re just so— so pretty and pliant and so damn obedient .” You tremble slightly, and Hunter reaches to hold the back of your neck; not before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, of course.

“Listening to my every order,” he continues, oddly affectionate.

A rush of confidence flows through your veins. You try to smirk, but instead it comes out toothy and bashful.

“That’s my job, sergeant.”

Hunter groans, his fingers curling into your neck, one pressing to your pulse point so purposefully.

“Fuck, don’t say stuff like that,” he says, shaking his head, though he doesn’t seem too displeased. “Or else this’ll be really short.”

You giggle, trying to look away, but Hunter’s grip on your neck keeps your head in place. You blink rapidly, suddenly overwhelmed by his stare. But you can’t. Move.

You whisper out a weak, “Keep talking,” before your eyes shut close. You press your palm to your clit, whining softly. Hunter uses the grip on your neck to bring you in closer, whispering slow and softly into your ear with purposeful oscillations of his lips,

“I wonder how you’ll feel around me.” You sigh out the faintest hint of his name in surprise, just as you begin to press a finger into your entrance. “I bet you’re so tight you’ll squeeze me out. Warm, and hot, and loud .”

“Fuck,” you swear, both in response to his words and to the feeling of a single finger pumping in and out of you. You’ve done little to stimulate yourself and cum, but somehow you’re already feeling an anticipated crawl up of an orgasm.

The things Hunter does to you.

“I want your mouth on my cock too.”

You clench involuntarily o over your finger, bucking your hip so your clit catches against your palm. Oh. He isn’t done.

“‘Thinking we’d both have fun if I tried a hand at commanding you around, fucked your face a little.”

Hunter tilts his head. as though expecting a response, so you nod your head — or tilt your chin down, you’re unsure— and he grins in deep settled approval at your compliance.

“How does that sound, hm?”

In a split moment of respite, while he awaits your response, you gaze down, watch his hand wrap around his cock with more insistence than before, stroke at the same rate you move. The hand on your hip drifts down to hold your hip again, rocking you with more fervor. Inadvertently, the movement forces your fingers in a new direction that grazes your g-spot just so perfectly, and you’re sighing again.

“ Oh… ”

The silence becomes too long for Hunter to bear, and he grunts.

“Answer me, mesh’la,” his tone is commanding, yet not overbearing. You appreciate it considering the sliver of shame remaining in your stomach. “Would you like that?”

“I’d–I’d like it,” you stammer out, slowly rubbing a second finger down your folds before pressing in slowly to meet the other. “A lot … fuck.”

With a tilt of his head, Hunter leans in closer, lips dangerously close to yours and for a split moment you consider pulling away.

“Something the matter?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Hunter can damn well see how your legs begin to twitch and shake more rapidly, the unsteadiness of your breathing as you simultaneously calm yourself and try to bring about your high.

“You fucking know what’s the matter, Hunter,” you bark back.

“I don’t think I’m sure exactly,” he responds dismissively. “Could you say it clearly, just in case?”

Something you hope sounds like a playful growl leaves you, but in reality, it probably sounds like a moth cat purring.

“You bastard .” There’s no real bite to your insult, and Hunter knows it, so he grins.

“I do my best.”

Your pleasure overtakes you and a shiver runs from the top of your spine to your legs, your thumb moving to properly rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” you’re moaning out before you know it, voice dwindling so you’re not too loud.

“Ah,” Hunter hums, affectionately rubbing your hip. “That’s what I thought. ‘Was just making sure.”

His strokes have become more erratic and frantic, but his composure doesn’t give it away. If you weren’t to gaze down, you’d have no tell how aroused he truly was. Though perhaps that’s how he wants it to be— you’re a pretty mess while he’s the foundation to keep you upright.

Suddenly, he’s talking again, using the hand on your hip to encourage you to keep rocking.

“Come on, you pretty thing,” he rumbles. “Come for me and I’ll come for you.” Then you’re remembering what brought you to this attraction in the first place; that damn voice of his. Truly, and you mean truly, never saw yourself being in this position; situated over Hunter’s lap, touching yourself for him while he gets off to you and only you.

With one more curl of your fingers against your g-spot and your thump insistently rubbing your clit, you’re over the hill, and you’re twitching and rocking your hips over and over in arches of your back, jumbled syllables vaguely making up Hunter’s name spilling from your lips like sticky sweet sugar.

That’s when you hear it. When you glance down to catch his spend start to spill on his bare skin the bandages of his, he groans out the most pleasant incantation of your name you’ve ever heard. The moment the noise graces your ears, you’re certain that you never want to hear anything else. Or at the least, any other version of your name.

A few moments pass where you remain panting in each other's presence, his hands remaining render less at your side, rubbing up and down in uncoordinated patterns, while your hands grip his shoulders. You only start to pull away from him as you catch your bearings— and your dignity.

Hunter interrupts you by grabbing the wrist of the hand you had stuffed down your panties. He leans in closer, tongue darting out like a teasing little offer.

“Can I get a taste, mesh’la?” His voice is slow, and warm, like honey pouring into a pot of tea—in any other situation, it would sedate your nerves. But those words ignite that fuel inside you. You press your fingers still coated in slick to his lips, and he opens his mouth graciously, letting his tongue swirl around your digits with a gracious hum that vibrates your skin. Your other hand drops to his chest just before where the gash begins and holds onto it with a tremorous touch.

Hunter pulls away with a resounding ‘pop’ that makes you cringe, but not pull your eyes away.

“Delicious,” he remarks.

Your face is hot again and Hunter is smiling wide, but you’ve figured out by now he means no malicious intent with his mannerisms. His hand reaches out, cradling your face

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Hunter admires you with a glint in his eye you’ve never seen before. Sure, you’ve seen affection— plenty at this point— but there’s a tenderness to his words as he continues. It still doesn’t feel fair to not return the compliment, however.

“You’re one to talk.”

The only response you get is a scoff.

“Have you ever seen yourself?” He asks, posing the rhetoric as if you’d go out of the way to compliment yourself. It’s hard to feel anything more than pretty when you have the most handsome man trapped between your thighs.

Hunter doesn’t budge — states it like a fact, as though he truly believes it. “I always get ravenous just looking at you.”

“Oh,” You reply dumbly. “I… I didn’t think.” Your ability to talk to Hunter improves after getting off for him, it seems.

“You thought wrong,” he replies, shaking his head slightly with a smile. He leans his head down, looking better at your face before reaching with his palm to hold your cheek with hands so calloused they feel soft.

“You’re a capable woman, a great addition to the batch–” Your cheeks heat up, and he smiles. “--And I think you’re beautiful. Mesh’la. That’s what that means.”

Your hand crawls up slowly against his arm, unknowingly following the pattern of his skeleton tattoo before your much smaller hand is placed against his.

“Hunter…” You whine.

He tilts his head, that goofy smile still stuck on his face. “What?”

“You flatter me.” With a shake of your head, you unpeel yourself from his lap, and Hunter whines so, so soft as you do to the point you almost leap back onto his lap again.

“I’m being honest,” Hunter insists, lazily using the underside of his blacks to clean his spend off his skin and the bandages. You’re standing idly, stupidly, and you know he’s waiting for you to say something— and you do, you do, but you don’t know what.

“Well, thank you,” you finally answer, attempting to compose yourself. You awkwardly place your feet back into the holes of your pants, pulling them up in a swift motion that leaves you put away wet, but you care very little at this point.

You look up at Hunter, appreciatively looking over his features, before a forlorn feeling fills your stomach when you gaze down at his lips. You felt them delicately graze against your ear, wrap around your fingers to gently suck and lap at the spend coating them, yet you haven’t felt them against yours once.

He notices the look on your face.

“Something up?” He asks.

In retrospect, it must’ve been a rush of confidence through your veins after having him in such a vulnerable state only a moment ago, but you truly don’t know where your next words come from.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You expect, hope even, for Hunter to be thrown off his rhythm so he can be on the same level as you for once. Rather he takes a step closer to you, his hand methodically wrapping around the back of your neck again, thumb pressing the juncture between your jaw and throat for that extra leisure, feeling your pulse as he pulls you in for a kiss.

In your dreams, Hunter's kisses are wholly devouring. But in reality, it’s warm, tender, brimming with an underlying passion you least expected. As his lips press against yours, you can feel the velvet caress of his skin, the exchange of breath between the two of you that makes you hum into him.

His other hand rises to gently stroke your back before pulling you closer, and you feel so enveloped in his embrace that neither of you will be harmed again. You press your foreheads together and pull away, each taking slow, savoring breaths.

Truly, you never expected to be in this situation.

“...I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you mutter shyly, a bashful look on your face. It’s that little smile, that damned voice of his, that delivers the final blow, sending you back into his striking orbit.

“Of course,” Hunter tells you, smooth as ever. “I still haven’t gotten to be inside you.”

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tinywitchgoblin · 1 month ago

Text

Obsessed!Hunter Thoughts (NSFW)

Hunter x fem!reader

Author’s note: when I say obsession here, I don’t mean in a creepy stalker way, I mean in the Gomez Addams kind of way because that is absolutely the type of lover Hunter would be, and no, you cannot convince me otherwise

Author’s note 2: I actually proofread this one but it’s entirely possible I still missed something, oops

Word count: 542

Warnings: m!masturbation, body worship (is this even a warning?), Crosshair being the little shit (affectionate) of a younger brother we all know he is, facesitting, oral (f!receiving), hair pulling, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie, Hunter being an absolute sweetheart

@dindjarindiaries I feel like you might like this (if not, no worries!)

(also this GIF just Does Things to me)

-When he first meets you, he cannot get his eyes off you

-Tries to be polite and respectful, but can’t stop staring at your ass, your tits, your stomach, your hips, your thighs… literally anything squishy takes hold of his mind and will not let go

-Always wants to be near you, smelling you, touching you

-He wants to be surrounded by you and you only

-Definitely has wet dreams about you

-And wakes up with a massive hard-on

-Something Hunter will never willingly admit to anyone is that there are times when he’ll just be so intoxicated by you that he has to sneak off and rub one out because it’s the only way to calm himself down

-Crosshair caught wind of it happening one time and will not stop teasing Hunter about it

-One time Crosshair almost “let it slip” in a conversation with you… which is how he ended up with a black eye and a couple of bruised ribs

-When you finally have sex for the first time, he takes his time and shows love to every single inch of your body

-He wants you to know just how much you and your beautiful body consumes his every waking thought

-Can and will beg you to let him eat you out

-Once Hunter’s face is between your thighs he is not leaving

-Wraps his arms around them and presses his entire face into your pussy

-Eats you out like you’re the only food source and he hasn’t eaten in days (he just ate a couple of hours ago, he’s fine… but he doesn’t know that)

-Pulling his hair while he eats you out will only spur him on even more, too

-👏 SIT 👏 ON 👏 HIS 👏 FACE

-And none of that hovering shit, either

-He’ll lay back, pull you down onto him and go absolutely insane in the best way possible

-All the while he’s thrusting up into nothing because eating you out turns him on so much

-Has definitely came without being touched solely due to getting so turned on from eating your pussy

-👏 OXYGEN 👏 IS 👏 OPTIONAL

-When you come, he keeps eating and will continue unless and until you pull his head away from you

-But will definitely ask for more

-“Please, mesh’la? Give me another one? You look so pretty when you come on my face”

-And when he does finally pull away, the scent and feeling of your arousal covering his face gets him hard all over again

-When he finally slides into you, he buries his face into your neck and moans out the sexiest “oh, fuck” you’ve ever heard

-Does his best to make sex as pleasurable for you as absolutely possible

-But might not last super long

-Being buried deep inside you, feeling the softness of your body underneath his hands, smelling the scent of you still on his face,,,

-And yeah, if you ask him to, he’ll pull out, but will lose it if you let him come inside you

-After sex, all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you and cuddle because all he wants in that moment (and a lot of other moments, let’s be completely honest here) is you

•••

Thanks for reading! If you liked this, please make sure to reblog. 💚

And why not check out my masterlist while you’re at it?

#twg fic recs #tbb hunter #sargeant hunter #hunter x reader smut #hunter bad batch #sergeant hunter #hunter x reader #hunter #hunter tbb #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #star wars x reader smut #star wars x reader #the bad bois #the bad batch

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starry-crossing-zone · 4 months ago

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Love Finds a Way - Hunter

Summary: Hunter thought that he lost you in the Jedi Purge. But then he sees a familiar face. Length: 2.6k Warnings: Mentions of Jedi Purge; Mentions of Death; Amnesia; Scars; Hunter's Undefined Heightened Senses; Hunter is Bad with Emotion; Angst; Female Jedi Reader

“Don’t tell me you spared the padawan because of her,” Crosshair rasped.

The temperature in the Batch Batch’s barracks instantly dropped several degrees. Hunter continued to stand by the window, not dignifying him with a response. But the sharpshooter wasn’t going to just drop it. Crosshair walked forward, not unlike a predator about to leap on its prey.

“She’s a part of it, isn’t she?”

“Crosshair, stop it,” Echo warned him, but Crosshair was not deterred.

“Are you willing to throw everything away for her? Turn your back on the Empire, on your brothers, on your purpose for her? A traitor?”

“She’s not a traitor,” Hunter interjected, finally turning around. “She fought for the Republic, just as we did. Side by side with us, with other clones, and there was never a word against her.”

“But you were always her favorite pet, weren’t you, Hunter?”

Crosshair squared up against his older brother, relishing in the hidden rage that he could see boiling beneath Hunter’s surface. The button was right there and Crosshair was going to press it over and over again. Until Hunter finally snapped.

“If she was so popular, maybe the clones were kind enough to aim for her head.”

Hunter’s fist swung around and slammed into Crosshair’s gut, causing the sniper to fold over, clutching his stomach. But when Wrecker moved forward to break them up, Crosshair dared to grin at Hunter. Ready to deliver a second blow, Hunter silently glared at Crosshair. But then Wrecker grabbed and set Crosshair on his bed like a petulant child.

“Take it back, Crosshair,” Wrecker warned, pointing a finger at him. “She was your friend too.”

Crosshair glared up at Wrecker before turning to look over at Hunter. But Hunter was too busy staring forlornly out the window at the Kaminoan storm. Probably wallowing in thoughts of her.

“Pathetic,” Crosshair muttered under his breath, knowing that Hunter could hear him.

*~*~*~*

It was late, at least on a standard rotation cycle, and it was Hunter’s turn to be on watch. Sitting in front of the computer, he started to slowly type. Tech had hacked into the Imperial system earlier and gave Hunter instructions on how to navigate through the database. And now that Hunter was alone, he needed to do some investigating on his own.

Finding the list of Jedi, Hunter scrolled down it with a heavy heart, wincing when he saw familiar names. Continuing on, he paused when he found the name that he was looking for. Your name. And then his eyes landed on the big, bold, red word beside it.

TERMINATED

Hunter closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, the fight leaving his body. He sat there, wallowing in pain, before sitting up again. And even though he knew that it wasn’t healthy, he clicked on the report.

The clones under your command had attacked you while you were pursuing Separatist stragglers who crash landed on an Outer Rim planet. You managed to get away from them and stole a speeder, which they then shot down. You crashed into a lake and your body was never recovered.

Hunter stared at the hologram image of you that accompanied the report. You looked stoic, cold, and calculating. Completely unlike the woman that Hunter knew. But he supposed that erasing the Jedi’s compassion and humanity was just another part of the Empire’s propaganda.

“Who’s that?” Omega called from her perch, causing Hunter to look up at her.

“Just a Jedi that we used to serve under,” Hunter explained softly, looking back at the hologram. “I thought that there was a chance that she was still out there.” Hunter powered off the computer and turned back to Omega. “What are you doing up? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Not really,” Omega stated with a shrug of her shoulders. “Is your friend still out there?”

“No, it doesn’t look like it,” Hunter replied quietly.

“I’m sorry, Hunter.”

He nodded curtly, forcing a smile to urge Omega back to sleep. But when Tech awoke to take over watch, he found his brother staring at your hologram again.

*~*~*~*

“It is unlikely that we would run into any Imperial entanglements out here,” Tech stated, leading the way down the stairs of the Marauder. “This planet is mostly farmers and not ones that provide any product of high value. Mostly standard grains.”

“Does that mean that they have food?” Wrecker sighed, rubbing his stomach.

“I would assume so, yes,” Tech replied, typing away at his datapad.

“Let’s go explore then!” Omega exclaimed, running down the gangplank. “You said that the largest city is right there, Tech?”

“The term ‘city’ might be inaccurate given the low population density, number of buildings, and other indicators of a traditional urban center,” Tech stated, not looking up from his typing. “But, yes, the closest organization to a city is in that standard direction.”

Echo and Hunter pulled up the rear of the group as they headed into town. Echo glanced worriedly at Hunter. He had been quiet ever since Tech mentioned this planet and even Omega hadn’t been able to pull him out of his brooding. And a quick check of the Imperial database clarified why. At least, if one knew where to look.

“Are you alright?” Echo asked Hunter as they walked towards the city.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You should try to learn to be convincing before Omega asks you that,” Echo replied quietly.

Hunter sighed and looked down at the dirt path. They walked in silence for a few more moments, both keeping a close eye on Omega, before Hunter finally let some of the load off of his shoulders.

“I have the coordinates. For where it happened.”

“How far is it from here?”

“Two hours by speeder.”

“Whenever you feel that you’re ready to go,” Echo stated gently, keeping his voice low, “just give me a signal. I’ll distract the others.”

“Thank you, Echo.”

They reached town and looked around at the various stalls and short buildings scattered around. There were a few supplies that they needed and so the Bad Batch split up. Hunter walked off on his own, searching for some part that Tech knew that this small planet would not have. But it allowed him some time to think, or brood, so he didn’t mind.

Hunter walked around the small mechanic market in the village, at least trying to look like he was putting in effort to find the part. He was in the middle of inspecting a part for sale, which wasn’t the one that he had been sent for, when a voice broke through the mist and clutched his heart.

“Can I get you anything?”

With his advanced hearing, Hunter was accustomed to tuning out the useless background noise and focusing on only what he needed or wanted to hear. And normally, he tried to block out the useless background conversations.

But yet that voice stuck out. Its familiarity haunted him and Hunter found his legs moving on their own, following that voice like it was a siren song.

“Byn, Table 3 is asking for more of the soup.”

“Did you want another napkin?”

“Can I get you a refill?”

“Thanks for coming!”

Following the voice, Hunter paused when he turned the corner and found an open-aired restaurant. There were a cluster of tables spread out in front of a white tent. There were some customers milling around, but it was mostly quiet.

And then there you were, appearing with the sun glowing behind you. It was you. He knew it was you. It had to be you.

Even though you wore civilian clothes now, he knew that it was you. Even though your hair was shorter now, he knew that it was you. Even though there was now a jagged scar across your cheek, he knew that it was you. And when you turned your head and he finally caught a glimpse of your eyes, his knees nearly buckled under him.

It was you. You were here. You were alive.

“Hunter?” Tech’s voice cut in, jolting Hunter out of his thoughts. “Hunter, do you copy?”

“I can hear you,” Hunter finally responded, pressing the button on his commlink.

“Are you alright? It took three tries for you to respond,” Echo pointed out, causing Hunter to look over at you again.

“Meet me at my coordinates. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Soon the Bad Batch took their seats at a table in the open-aired restaurant. Hunter’s legs bounced nervously as he waited for you to walk over, earning worried looks from Echo and Omega at his unusually anxious fiddling. Omega had only been given a brief overview of your history with the Bad Batch, as she was never there to witness it in person, but it was easy to see how important you were from Hunter’s reaction. She had never seen him like this before.

You walked over to their table with a polite customer service smile. Hunter held his breath, waiting for you to recognize him—how many men had half of a skull tattooed on their face? Or of Wrecker’s size? But as you passed out menus and treated them like any other patrons, Hunter felt his hope quickly dash.

“Welcome. I’ll be your waitress. Here are some menus. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them for you. Otherwise, I’ll give you a minute to look it over.”

You gave them another kind smile before walking off without even a small trace of recognition for any of them. Hunter stared after you with a broken expression.

“She didn’t recognize us?” Wrecker asked softly.

“There is still a statistical possibility that our waitress is not her,” Tech pointed out calmly.

“It’s her. She smells just like her. I know it. I know that’s her,” Hunter insisted, causing Tech and Echo to share a concerned look.

“Then why didn’t she recognize you?” Omega asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know.”

*~*~*~*

“You ever seen those patrons before?” Byn, the head chef of the restaurant, asked you as you loaded up another order onto your serving tray.

“No, why?”

“They seem to have a staring problem. Especially dark and broody.”

You glanced back at the table in question. The Bad Batch, once they realized that you were staring at them, quickly turned back to their meals, trying to appear normal. Save for Hunter, that is, whose gaze lingered, until Echo elbowed him stiffly in the side. Turning back to Byn, the man who had taken you in after your accident, you shrugged your shoulders.

“They’re probably just staring at my scar,” you mumbled, adjusting the plates on your tray.

“You let me know if they say anything to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. I can handle them.”

Walking over to their table again, you placed down some of their plates, before turning around to grab the rest. But feeling Hunter’s gaze on you again, you turned around briefly, holding your serving tray to your chest. Echo once again elbowed Hunter in the side, causing the sergeant to turn to him with a sour expression.

“You’re going to scare her away if you keep staring at her like that,” Echo reminded Hunter quietly.

“I can’t help it.”

“Well, try to, before she calls the authorities on a man who looks like he wants to eat her.”

When you returned a second time, you placed a plate down in front of Tech and then Hunter. He thanked you quietly, causing you to nod and smile. Placing Omega’s plate down last, you turned to conduct your rounds of the tables.

“What do we do?” Omega asked Hunter, who was still staring after you. “She doesn’t recognize you. How do we get her to do that?”

“Based on the report of her supposed demise, it would not be out of the question that she likely suffered severe injuries as a result of the crash,” Tech began to infodump. “If that woman actually is her, then she clearly sustained trauma to her face, as demonstrated by the large scar on her cheek. It would therefore follow logically that she may have sustained head trauma in the crash as well, which would explain why she does not appear to recognize us.”

“So, there’s still a chance that she could get her memories back,” Omega suggested, but Tech did not look convinced.

“I am not certain. Head injuries are not simple to treat. And if that woman is in fact her, she would have been without her memories for several months now. And I would assume that given the simplistic nature of life on this planet that she was never properly treated at a professional medical facility for her injuries, which would likely exacerbate her memory loss and other symptoms.”

“Get to the point, Tech,” Wrecker grunted out.

“It is a possibility, perhaps even a high one, that she might never recover her memories. In part or in full.”

“But we have to try,” Omega insisted, slowly turning back to Hunter. “Don’t we?”

“I would raise an ethical concern about doing so,” Tech stated, adjusting his goggles.

“And what would that be?” Echo asked gruffly.

“If we are able to restore her memories, that will include the ones where clone troopers attacked and nearly killed her. And we will also have to inform her that her entire culture and civilization were destroyed along with most of the people she considered her family and that she will never again be safe in the galaxy as a Force wielder.”

Hunter stared down at his plate as Tech continued on with his explanation.

“While restoring her memories may provide us with a satisfactory outcome, she does not appear to be in distress here. As far as we can see, her other symptoms are not affecting her quality of life. And as the Empire has her listed as deceased in their database and she is seemingly unaware of her abilities, she is safe here. On the other hand, if she comes with us, there is a very high statistical probability that she will not be.”

“Maybe so, but is that our decision to make?” Echo pointed out, causing everyone to turn to him. “Because speaking as the only person here who’s actually forgotten who they were, and not by choice, I wouldn’t choose peaceful ignorance over the truth.”

“Well, what would she want?” Omega inquired, looking up at Hunter. He turned his head to meet her gaze, but couldn’t find the words.

“How is everything over here?” you asked kindly, walking over to the table.

“Can I ask you something?” Omega questioned suddenly, causing you to turn to her.

“Sure.”

“If you have the choice between remembering everything from your life—even all of the bad stuff—or not remembering anything but being happy, which would you pick?”

You froze at her question, tensing up as the scar on your face burned. Sensing your unease, and after working through his own shock at her question, Hunter scolded Omega.

“She didn’t mean any harm by it,” Hunter tried to assure you.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you laughed off, waving your hand. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

You walked away and carried on with your work. But you couldn’t help but raise your hand to your scar as it continued to pulsate and burn after Omega’s question. Glancing over your shoulder at the Bad Batch, you found your eyes landing on the dark and brooding figure who looked exhausted and dejected. You looked down at the dirt, feeling responsible somehow. But then Byn called your name and you had to go back to work.

*~*~*~*

Night had fallen on the quaint planet and Hunter sat outside of the Marauder, mindlessly whittling at a piece of wood with his vibro knife to pass the time. He tried sleeping, but after tossing and turning a thousand times, he decided for a change of scene. Hunter studied the design that he carved when he heard a speeder in the distance. Standing up from his seat, Hunter stared out at the night landscape with narrowed eyes.

A speeder came to a stop a few meters from the Marauder and Hunter crept forward, moving to intercept the figure. But when he smelled your familiar scent, he paused. Stowing his vibro knife away, Hunter stepped into the light emitted from your speeder. You set your helmet and goggles on the seat of the speeder bike before turning to meet his gaze.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked quietly.

“You tell me.” You stared at him with a familiar fire in your eyes. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he confirmed softly after a moment.

“Good,” you stated, resting your hands on your lap. “Because I don’t.”

#the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #seargent hunter #sergeant hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x you #hunter x reader

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jedipoodoo · 2 months ago

Text

Sniffles (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: No warnings. This is My attempt to make Hunter as pathetic as possible. sick fic, Hunter gets the common cold and reacts accordingly as any man would.

"Help!" a rapid pounding at your door interrupted your peaceful morning.

You opened the door to find Omega standing there, fidgeting something fierce.

"Omega, what's wrong? Is everyone okay?"

"Somethings wrong with Hunter," Omega said nervously, "I woke up to a really loud noise, almost like an explosion, and I heard moaning from his room. He sounds hurt!"

You took a deep breath. Panicking wouldn't help Omega.

"Stay here I'll go check on him." You grabbed your medkit and started up the path towards the house Omega and Hunter shared.

You opened the door, painted red. It was one of the charming touches Hunter had made to the home that you absolutely adored.

"Hunter?"

A loud sneeze almost shook the house. That must have been what had woken Omega. You pressed further, searching for his bedroom. On his bed, you found a mountain of blankets, shuddering slightly under the light streaming in from the window.

"Oh Hunter," You sighed, but smiled, picking your way through the battlefield of used tissues that littered the floor.

"Day back," A shaky hand emerged from beneath the blankets, a warning, "I'm dying."

"Hunt-" You started to giggle, and then you couldn't stop.

"'S nod fuddy," Hunter insisted, but the way he sounded with a stuffed nose only made you laugh more.

"Who would have thought," You laughed, removing a couple of blankets from the top of the pile, "Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force Ninety-nine laid low by the common cold."

Hunter huffed, throwing off the last of the blankets, "Dere id nudding common aboud dis!"

His face was pale, his dark tattoo contrasting sharly against his sickly looking skin. He reached for another tissue and blew his nose loudly.

"Have you ever had a cold before?" you asked.

"No!" Hunter moaned and fell back against the pillows, "Clones are'd supposed do ged sick!" he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around himself, burying his face in his pillow.

"How long has it been since you've seen a doctor?" You asked. He muttered something unintelligible.

"Why is id so brighd?" He muttered.

You closed the curtains for him. "Migraines can be a side effect of colds."

"Gread." he sighed.

You held out the box of tissues. Hunter bravely stuck a hand out from the blanket, groping for one to blow his nose with.

"Take one of these," You took a bottle of pills out of your medkit and placed it in the table next to his bed, "I'll be right back."

In the kitchen, you filled Hunter's canteen with water and started warming some broth on the stove top.

The door slammed open, and Wrecker filled the room with his booming voice.

"Is Hunter okay?" He demanded. Crosshair and Omega filed in behind him.

"Woah Woah Woah," You held up your hands, blocking them from going down the hall, "He's fine, he's just got a cold."

"Are you certain?" Crosshair tried to push past you.

"I'm very certain," You rolled your eyes and gave him a shove. In spite of your assurances, Hunter moaned from down the hall once again, blowing his nose rather obnoxiously.

"He sounds like he's dying," Crosshair folded his arms.

"He's not, I promise. He just needs some rest and some decongestant. His sinuses are so clogged they're putting pressure on his head and making him sick. Hell be fine within two days."

"Hey Hunter!" Wrecker hollared down the hall, "Can I have your knife when you're dead?"

"No!" Hunter shouted, his voice gravely. He fell into a fit of coughing from talking so harshly.

"I dibs the bandanas," Cross hissed.

"Whad was dat?" Hunter stumbled into the doorway, the blanket around his shoulders resembling more of a cocoon than a heroic cape. The cold was taking its toll on his senses.

"That's it. Out, all of you!" You shoved Crosshair back towards the door.

"Can I help?" Omega pleaded.

"Sorry honey, we don't want you getting sick. Or you!" You tried in vain to drag Wrecker out the door with the others.

"But he's not dying?" Omega asked once more for reassurance.

"No he's not. Don't listen to your brothers. Go hang out with Lyanna for the day. I'll let you know when he's all better."

Wrecker finally moped out of the house, and you slammed the door shut behind them, locking it for good measure. By now, the broth you'd left on the stove top was starting to simmer, but Hunter was still standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Back to bed. Now." You pointed at him.

"How come you are'd worried aboud gedding sick?" He asked, swaying a bit.

You rolled your eyes and placed his arm over your shoulder, escorting him back to bed.

"I've gotten a cold plenty of times before. I know how to deal with it. But if you're gonna act like a baby about it, I can only imagine how Wrecker would get with it."

"I'd nod a baby." Hunter pouted as you all but dropped him on the bed. You pushed him back, spreading the blanket over his body.

"I'll grab the soup and some water. You take the medicine yet?"

Hunter nodded, eyes half-closed. "Tasted terrible."

You laughed softly, and pressed your lips to his forehead. His skin was clammy to the touch.

"Medicine usually does, Hunt."

You brought back the food, along with a damp cloth to wash his face. You fed him, spoonful by spoonful, until he'd fallen back to an uneasy sleep. You braided his hair to keep it off his face, and left the cloth on his forehead to let the humidity break up some of the blockage.

As Hunter slept, you busied yourself with making sure he had enough supplies to ride out the cold. You went and bought some more tissues and broth, and packed an overnight bag for Omega to have at Lyanna's place.

You stopped by your house to grab some of your own things, and noticed the book sitting on the shelf. Hunter had bought it for you as a birthday present, but you hadn't gotten the chance to read it yet. Maybe you could read it to him.

When you returned after your errands, Hunter was sitting up in the bed, taking sips from the canteen.

"Where'd you go?" He asked, looking something like a kicked puppy as you returned to his bedroom.

"Just grabbing a few things," You placed a fresh box of tissues on the table to replace the empty one. You made a mental note to grab the trash can and clean up the floor later.

Hunter nodded, sinking back into the pillows. "I missed you," He mumbled apologetically.

Your heart melted just a little bit.

"Missed you too," You smiled, and kissed his forehead again

#lizart writes #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #Sergeant Hunter x you #tbb hunter x you #sick fic

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thegreymarveljedi · 5 months ago

Text

Who’s seen the pics from the new Bad Batch comic???

The boys look so hot. Like holy shit whoever is doing this is doing a good job👀🤤

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zoeykallus · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, Zoey! Are your requests open? I had an idea after watching Kenobi.

There’s a scene in Kenobi where the Inquisitors show up to a market place in search of Jedi. They throw a knife at the shop owner knowing that the Jedi hiding among the patrons will stop the knife from harming him. It would be interesting to see that with Hunter.

Maybe Hunter and Cid’s bartender have a relationship. Bartender was weary of the clones at first but warmed up to them and liked Hunter. They just started dating when Inquisitors show up. They use the knife trick on someone (maybe even Omega) and bartender is forced to expose themselves as a former Jedi.

I’d love to see how Hunter would react to that.

oh oh oh oh... I got something in my head!

*Running in circles*

I actually had a scene like this in my head for a while now, I put the whole batch in there but focus on Hunter as a love interest.

Hunter x Jedi/Reader - One-Shot - The Things We Do For Love

Warnings: Angst/Canon Typical Violence/Blood/Fluff

No one knows about your past with the Jedi order. You are forced to drop your cover, when you try to save Hunter's life.

_______

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_______

It's strange, life after Order 66 - hiding, pretending to be someone else. And it doesn't get any easier every day as you'd hoped, at least not at first. Cid's Bar, that's where you ended up at some point. You work behind the counter. You serve all kinds of strange clientele. Cid's Bar is like a meeting place for all kinds of scum in the Galaxy. Life has changed, a lot. Priorities change. The code after you've lived so long is nowhere near as important as surviving and belonging somewhere so you're not completely alone in this universe. But you can't open up to anyone, not exactly the most decent people come and go here. So you keep a low profile. You even flirt here and there to keep up appearances, but at the same time, you keep everyone at a distance. And then, to make matters worse, these clones turn up. Automatically, every alarm sounds inside you. Order 66 flares up in your memory, sharp and painful. It takes so much willpower to stay calm, to not let anything get to you, so much trauma hangs in every thought of clones. No one knows who you are, no one even suspects that you were part of the Jedi Order.

And yet these men surprise you, especially one of them who leads the group. He is so thoughtful, so serious. Hunter always seems to be lost in thought, trying to keep everything under control, to ensure safety. He rarely leans back and really takes a breath. He's almost always worried and tense, you can feel it in the Force. But eventually, he thaws out, you somehow strike up a conversation, and you quickly learn how much depth and kindness lie beneath that brooding, skeptical exterior. Hunter can even be funny, very observant and above all else, he's decent, probably one of the most decent people to ever come and go in this bar. You catch yourself admiring him. Your eyes meet more and more often, you talk to each other more often, even flirt. But this flirting is different, it's not fake, it feels real, exciting and for you, with your past, completely new and almost reckless. You are both obviously interested in each other, just as you are both shy and cautious in a certain way. Weeks, even months go by before your hands touch for the first time, and he asks you out.

You can see it in his face, he can hardly believe it himself, hidden behind his smile is a nervous boy who is incredibly afraid of being rejected by you. The big, brooding leader has a great weakness, you. Of course, you say yes, you can hardly resist this special man, clone soldier or not, Hunter has so much good in him, he attracts you like a magnet, not to mention his good, bold looks do the rest.

It starts like any other evening. More or less. After your first date, Hunter usually comes into the bar smiling, automatically seeking your gaze as soon as he walks through the door. You can't help it, you smile back every time, accompanied by a warm tingling in your stomach, warmth rising in your cheeks and ears.

But something is different today. There is a presence in the room, dark, determined, hard as stone, surrounded by sharp edges. You sense this presence in the Force, its intransigence. You look around in alarm. The bar is a little busier today, your gaze wanders more or less inconspicuously around the room. Then you see him. You meet cold eyes, eyes as blue as sapphires, their gaze steely and sharp, so intense that you automatically lower your own gaze and distractedly clean a glass. But you know this person has already noticed you. Right now you're feverishly thinking about your next steps and how to get out of here alive without putting anyone in danger. Hunter frowns worriedly, watching you. He can tell something is wrong. Tech is talking to him, but he is focused on you right now. He leaves the table where he was sitting with his brothers and is about to come over to you when he hears a voice say clearly and distinctly, not shouting but loud enough, "CT 9901"

You feel hot and cold, a shiver runs down your spine, you're sure Hunter feels the same way, you can see it on his face. All the heads at the Bad Batch table look up in surprise, shock and alarm. Hunter turns to the voice that seems to be coming from one of the other tables a few meters away. A man suddenly stands up, slowly, unhurriedly, confidently. Like a predator who is sure of his prey, who has no reason to be afraid, no need to hurry. Neither you nor Hunter like the body language. What surprises you, however, is that this man, in his strange, dark uniform, is not looking for you as you expected, but obviously for Hunter and presumably his brothers. "All 99ers in one room, this must be my lucky day. And not only that, I feel like I'm getting a little something extra on top of that," the somber stranger says, his voice deep and clear, almost melodic.

The room falls silent, as if the presence of this man demands it. With a confident little smile, the man pulls a knife from his belt, the first movement is slow, almost sluggish, but the throw comes so suddenly that you barely have time to react. It has become so quiet in the bar that you could hear a pin drop. But when the blade suddenly seems to stop in mid-air barely a centimeter from Hunter's eye, a murmur goes through the room. You're sure you can hear someone whispering the word Jedi.

Hunter only lets out a quiet, "What the hell", he can't help but stare at the blade for a moment. He should be dead, he realizes, that vibro blade should have drilled into his skull, but there it is, hovering right in front of his face. Out of the corner of his eye he sees your outstretched hand, your concentrated gaze, and he begins to understand. You stopped the blade from killing him, you stopped it in its tracks. The stranger's cool voice draws you both back to him. "I knew I sensed a Jedi in the room, and I knew you couldn't resist to show yourself" In the next moment everything happens very quickly, there is no time to think, to process, to make plans. The man reaches out his hand, and you feel his grip on you in the force. You are swept over the bar counter, with a pull on your body, trough the force, knocking over two tables on your way to the floor. Everything around you happens in a haze, you hear Hunter cursing angrily, blaster shots, the distinctive buzz of an awakening lightsaber, screams from the other patrons. A red glow fills the room. The smell of burned flesh.

Your left side hurts. You landed hard on the tables when the Sith Force-wrenched you over the counter, maybe you cracked a few ribs. There are shards on the surrounding floor from the glasses that went down. As you try to pick yourself up, you accidentally reach in and cut your right palm. The pain is sharp, clear and distinct, bringing you back to reality from your surprise. You jump to your feet, skillfully, supported by the force that flows through and envelops you. It's been a long time since you've used the Force and your abilities in this way, but it's as if you've never let it out of your fingers, the lightsaber sliding into your hand, its blade glowing blue with its characteristic hum. Blood runs down the hilt of your weapon from the open cut on your hand, it burns, but you ignore the pain. You feel Hunter's gaze, he is still confused. He knows what you are now, but he certainly hasn't processed the news yet. At the moment, you all have other things to worry about. Did the Sith come alone? Are there Stormtroopers waiting for you outside the bar?

You concentrate on the force, on the intentions of your opponent. Everything you feel emanating from him is sharp, dark, glowing hot. He is driven by rage, and the moment your lightsabers cross, you feel all the hatred in his attacks, which are admittedly much stronger than you expected. You've never fought a real Sith before. The first touch of your lightsabers is like an electric shock, an incredibly hard impact, a wave of fury that seems to roll over you from your opponent. The hilt of your weapon is slippery with your own blood, you have to grab it hastily with both hands so that the sword doesn't slip from your grasp or your opponent will decapitate you. For a moment, Hunter's concern penetrates your perception, but you shut him out and have to concentrate. A quick exchange of blows follows, attack, parry, retreat, attack, parry... The handle of your weapon becomes increasingly slippery with your own blood. Then it happens, another hard blow, you parry, the impact of the blades causes your weapon to slip away.

You hear Hunter yell out, hear the shock in his voice, the terror in that simple word, "No!" His blaster lies on the ground, sliced in half by the Sith's blade. Hunter has pulled his knife from his belt in a split second, lunging in the Sith's direction. The blade of your attacker hovers just in front of your neck, you hold the Sith and his weapon in this position with all the strength you can muster with body and force. Your heart races, adrenaline flows through your body. There are only millimeters between your life and death. Millimeters before the red lightsaber could sever your head from your shoulders. Hunter reaches an arm around the Sith's neck and jabs his knife into his side. The sergeant's voice is dark and smoky as he rasps, "Not on my watch"

The red lightsaber goes out and falls to the ground. Hunter kicks it aside, away from the Sith's hands, and lets the mortally wounded attacker slide to the ground. You see Hunter's chest rise and fall, still electrified, while your adrenaline suddenly subsides and your hands begin to tremble a little. You concentrate on the force, your center, and banish the trembling from your limbs. With a sigh, you look at the man on the ground, who is taking his last breaths, his cold, sapphire eyes still looking up at you with hatred, but there is also reluctance in them, surprise, defiance. Echo kneels down next to him, feels his pulse. "Quite dead," he says dryly, and with a glance at your extinguished lightsaber, he asks, "Care to explain?" "Take it easy, Echo. I guess it's obvious why we're only finding out now, it would have been dangerous to reveal the truth," Hunter says calmly and steps closer, carefully grabbing your hand and looking at the cut.

"That needs stitching," Tech says with a sideways glance and adds, "I can do it when we get to the Marauder, we should get out of here, more will come" The others lead the way, Hunter and you follow at a slight distance. You can't quite believe it yet. CF99 accepts you into their midst, no ifs, no questions, yet. Admittedly, Echo is still a little skeptical, but he always is. But you're part of it now, you're no longer alone. The thought spikes a feeling of euphoria in you. "Looks like Clone Force 99 has its own Jedi now," Hunter says with a wry smile. You crack a smile, liking the idea, forgetting for a moment your bleeding hand and the drops of blood that fall to the ground and on your tunic. Crosshair, who is walking ahead of you, casts a jaunty glance over his shoulder and says dryly, "Just don't expect me to follow your orders, General." He says it with a wink, even if his words sound a little hostile, he is friendly to you, you sense his intentions in the Force.

You say quietly, "I wasn't going to give you orders, you have a working system as a group, I wouldn't dream of changing it" The Sniper laughs softly, "Clever Jedi" Hunter drops back a little, and you do the same, sensing that he has something to say to you. After a little while, on your way to the Marauder, he says seriously, "You gave up your cover to save my life, thank you" You chuckle and say softly, "The things we do for love" Hunter listens in surprise and asks, "So our dates aren't part of your cover?" You've opened up to him in the force, feeling his pulse, the tingling under his skin as if it were your own. "I would never play with your feelings, not even as a cover," you say seriously. Hunter breathes a sigh of relief and asks, "So nothing will change between us?" "I'd like us to continue our relationship and see where it takes us," you reply with a warm smile. You feel his relief, his affection, and you breathe a sigh of relief as well.

"That's what I want too," he says, carefully grabbing your hand and taking another look at the wound. "That looks really bad," he says, frowning. Wrecker comes rushing up and murmurs, "Now hurry up, or our Jedi will bleed to death!" Impatiently, he grabs you and lifts you off your feet to carry you to the Marauder. You make a small, startled noise. "Wrecker," Hunter says softly, admonishing. "What? The little Jedi got hurt!" Wrecker returns unperturbed and carries you to the Marauder. "It's just a cut on my hand," you say, waving it off. "It's bleeding a lot," Tech comments as Wrecker sets you down next to him and points at your stained tunic. Tech already has medical supplies ready, including a needle and thread, but first Echo cleans the wound. You grit your teeth, because the cleaning stings a lot. Echo says knowingly, "Don't worry, it'll be done in a minute"

Wrecker asks curiously, "Is the Jedi officially with us now?" Hunter sits down opposite you and watches as your wound is taken care of, he says, "I think so" "But I'm not really a Jedi anymore. There is no longer a Jedi order and I haven't been following the code for a while now, at least not to the letter," Hunter's eyes meet yours at the last words. Your heart beats faster as a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "We're not really regular clones either, we're not really soldiers anymore," Tech says lightly. Crosshair sticks a toothpick in his mouth and mutters, "Welcome to the defect squad, I have a feeling you'll fit in perfectly here"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

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@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

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@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

@bandnerdlevel43

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dustmusings · 7 months ago

Text

a half-hearted escape

Hunter x F!Reader

word count: 3.4k

description: in the heat of the moment, you have a bad idea that would help you evade capture, but you never expected the accidental half-confession it draws from Hunter

warnings: kissing to escape capture trope, swearing, miscommunication kinda? steamy kissing but nothing crazy just some wandering hands, kinda cheesy perhaps

a/n: shamelessly inspired by that new girl season 2 episode (you'll see). this is just a short and sweet one :) because the Fives one I'm writing rn is taking the life out of me lmao. tbh I can't believe this is only my second Hunter fic, I am a Hunter girlie after all. the title makes sense in my heart okay

masterlist | join my taglist

You were running, except there was nowhere else to run to anymore. It was a dead end.

“Fuck” Hunter breathed the word out heavily as he rested his back against the wall in the thin alley, looking this way and that, “What do we do?”

“You give the orders around here, you tell me” you replied in an exasperated huff, earning an unimpressed look.

“Well I'm taking suggestions” he growled, his voice low and irritated as he peered around the corner.

You glanced around the alley. There was really nothing to hide you, only some rubbish scattered about the ground, but leaving would guarantee your capture at this point. A thought entered your head and you let out a short whine at having even let it find it's way in.

“What? You have something?” Hunter asked, turning to find the reason for your sudden vocalisation.

“I have a really bad idea” you said, giving him an almost pained look.

“Well anything is better than nothing” he argued, which only made you laugh humourlessly.

“You're going to take that back in a minute” you told him, and he turned to you fully so you could see his frown.

“What are you—?”

“No time” you said in a panic, noting the patrol of stormtroopers about to pass by, “pick me up”

“What?” he hissed, his expression contorting into one of utter confusion.

“Just do it, quickly” you rolled your eyes and stepped up to him, hoping he'd follow your instruction. He hesitated for a moment, but hooked his hands under your thighs and you jumped into his hold.

“Right, now push me against the wall” you instructed.

“You've got to be kid—”

“Hunter” you snapped at him, “they're coming”

He groaned out of frustration, but obliged, stepping forwards and trapping your body between his and the wall.

“You happy now?” Hunter asked with a scowl, his breath hot as it fanned across your face.

“Ecstatic” you bit back, looking over his shoulder at the incoming stormtroopers. They were looking into every side street that they passed, their blasters held up as they inspected.

You reached up and slipped off Hunter's bandana, ruffling his hair so that it hung over his face. He let out a short grunt and fluttered his eyes closed as you did so.

“Was that really necessary?” he grumbled.

“Shut up” you replied, then wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your own face as well.

You could hear the chatter of the stormtroopers as they passed by. They seemed not to want to disturb you, and you breathed out a relieved sigh. You continued to listen out for them, but it was hard not to become distracted by the intensity of Hunter's gaze as he opened his eyes and stared directly into yours from only a few inches away.

It struck you that you felt surprisingly comfortable in his arms, as if it were entirely normal to be in this situation.

“I can't believe this” he mumbled out, with a small shake of his head and a little humour in his voice.

“I did say it was a really bad idea” you reminded him, one side if your mouth curling into a small smirk.

Hunter scoffed, “I'm never trusting any of your ideas ever again”

You chuckled breathily, your head dropping forwards so that your forehead gently rested against his. He adjusted his hold on you, his hands gripping the top of your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to ease the load.

“You—”

“If you say I'm heavy, I swear to the maker I will punch you” you interjected. It wasn't uncommon that Hunter would taunt you, so you were only trying to pre-empt his teasing.

Hunter chuckled, a deep rumble that you could feel with him pressed up against you. “I was actually going to say that you smell good” he corrected in a murmur.

Oh. That certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

“Uh, thanks. I guess” you spoke awkwardly, your eyes flicking away from his.

Despite your uneasy reaction, you actually felt a sense of pride in the comment. Hunter had attuned senses, you knew that, so for him to say such a thing felt more meaningful to you than if anyone else had said the same thing. A strange feeling tugged at you chest and you could feel your face flush at the observation that felt oddly personal.

“Do you think they've passed us?” Hunter asked, and it brought you back to why you were in this situation to begin with.

“Right, uh…” you lifted your head and peered outside of the alley, not seeing any stormtroopers passing by, “Seems like it”

Hunter was about to let you down when you saw a flash of white plastoid come into view.

“Wait” you gripped him tighter, “fuck, they're coming this way”

Hunter huffed, “Well what do we do now?”

Your mind scrambled for something, anything to let you escape capture, and you were surprised by how quickly it brought forth your next bad idea.

“Kiss me”

“Wh—?”

“Just do it. It'll make them uncomfortable”

“Yeah, they won't be the only ones”

You rolled your eyes, “Hunter please, just get on with it”

“No”

“No?”

“No. I'm not doing it”

You cast a glance over his shoulder again and the stormtroopers were practically entering the alley.

“Hunter they're right on top of us, they'll know we're pretending”

“No they won't” He replied firmly, pressing his forehead into yours to hide your faces.

“Hunter just do it, you don't have to make it convincing even”

Hunter chuckled harshly at that, “That's not the problem. I'm just not doing it”

“Hunter, just kiss—”

“No. Not like this”

That gave you pause. The situation at hand completely slipped your mind.

“What?” your voice was small, nowhere near the amount of power it usually had behind it.

It was obvious that Hunter had said something he shouldn't have. His eyes were wide and his mouth hanging open, stuttering, looking for the words to explain himself. He tilted his head to look towards the end of the alley and there were stormtroopers looking in at the two of you. He turned back to you and the look of shock was still present on your face, trying to process what his earlier words truly meant.

“Oh, fuck it”

He latched his lips with yours, gripping the flesh of your thighs even tighter. He kissed you with fervour, and you couldn't tell how much of it was to make the stormtroopers leave you be. He pressed you into the wall further as his mouth worked against yours, lips moulding together in a way that could be interpreted as passionate, if you could sort out in your mind what was real and what wasn't. If he was doing this just to put on a show, you wanted to know what he’d do behind closed doors.

Wait, what?

Since when did you think such things about Hunter?

Any rationality in your thoughts left you when his hand slid up your body and he tugged you even closer, gripping your hip tightly. The other hand wound its way up to your neck, and he traced his thumb across your jawline, drawing a shudder from you.

By now, you were past caring if the kiss was just for show, you were enjoying it too much to pretend anymore. You tugged at the hair at the base of Hunter's scalp, pulling a deep groan from him that allowed you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips. The experience of exploring each other's mouths was intoxicating, the heady feeling somewhat close to that of being under the influence of spice. You couldn't get enough.

By the time you both pulled away, you had to take a moment to come back to your body, your breath falling from you in short pants. You blinked a few times, the haze lifting slowly, and found his grey eyes searching yours, his own breath just as heavy. You were passing air between you, still close enough that you could tilt your head and kiss him again. You almost did, before you remembered exactly why he had even kissed you to begin with.

You tilted your head to the side, resting it against Hunter's as you surveyed the situation.

“I think—” your breath was still heavy, and you had to pause to gather enough to speak, “I think they're gone”

The look on Hunter's face when you turned back to him was positively hurt, his brows drawn together as his lips turned downwards. You wished you could take back your words instantly, though you didn't know exactly what was going on. You'd need more time to figure that out.

Hunter dropped you to the floor, somewhat unceremoniously, and you braced yourself on the wall to stop from falling over. He went to the edge of the alley, glancing around the street that you had escaped from.

“You're right” he coughed out, “they're gone”

The tone of his voice tugged harshly at your heart. He was clearly trying to keep himself together for the sake of the mission, but it was undeniable by the quiver in his voice that he wasn't feeling completely sure of himself.

“Hunter” you called in a soft voice.

“What” he snapped back, his eyes finding yours.

You didn't know why he was suddenly acting like this, though you didn't know how else he was supposed to act after what just transpired. You didn't know how to act yourself.

“Nothing” You replied, shame burning at your cheeks as you looked down, “lead the way”

The journey back to the Marauder was excruciating. Neither of you spoke up, no matter how hard you tried to whip something up in your brain. There was nothing you could find to say that would fix the rift that had so clearly been created between you.

Even after you both climbed the steps of the ship, greetings being thrown at you by the other squad members, Hunter wouldn't look at you.

“Everything went smoothly I take it?” Tech asked, noting how both of you seemed to be unharmed.

The picture in front of Echo was entirely different to what Tech was seeing, apparently. He raised a brow at you when Hunter didn't reply, storming into the cockpit.

“Mhm, more or less” you answered the spectacled clone, then ducked away from Echo's watchful gaze, striding towards the bunks at the back of the ship.

You sat down on your bunk, running your hands through your hair, and that's when you realised you were still gripping tightly onto Hunter’s bandana.

“Kriff” you swore under your breath, standing once more and crossing the short distance to the bunk that belonged to owner of the scrap of fabric. You weren't going to give it back to him yourself, definitely not now.

You placed the red material down onto his pillow, taking a moment to run your thumb across the skull insignia before pulling away.

“Why do you have that?”

You jumped at the voice just behind you, and scowled before you turned around, knowing exactly how this conversation was going to go. Echo was impossible to lie to. He just somehow knew when you were lying, and you hated it.

“Hunter dropped it” you lied poorly, turning your face from the scrutinising honey eyes of your squadmate.

“He… dropped it?” Echo spoke suspiciously, clearly not believing a single word.

“Yep” you replied, dropping down onto your bunk again.

“So it just… fell off his head?” he asked.

You looked up to see his disbelieving look, a scoff naturally passing your lips.

“I'm not in the mood for this right now” you grumbled, which only made Echo's lips curve into a smirk, “and wipe that look off of your face”

“What look?” Echo questioned, his smirk only widening.

You rolled your eyes and laid down on your bunk, turning away from the infuriating clone. You heard him chuckle before the scuff of his boots against the floor signified his leaving, and you let out a long breath.

Your thoughts all muddled together with uncertainty. You hoped to bridge the gap between you and Hunter, but what if you couldn't? What if your stupid idea had done something irreparable?

The next few days were tense.

Everyone knew something had occurred between you and the Sergeant, but neither one of you would speak about it to the others, much less to each other.

It was agony. You found yourself sitting at the bar in Cid's parlour, watching him sulk across the room. You wanted to reach out, extend the olive branch, but you had no idea what to even say.

Sorry for holding you against your will and making you kiss me? Or I'm sorry I made you believe I actually had feelings for you?

You didn't know which was the correct sentiment, and you had been driving yourself mad trying to decipher his slip up from before you kissed. The words bounced around your brain, taunting you. Not like this. What did it mean?

Even more distressingly, it wasn't even the case that you had pretended to have feeling for him, not anymore at least.

You had always found Hunter attractive, how could you not after all, but this was uncharted territory. You never expected to actually feel anything for him in this sort of way. A sense of closeness, yes. A deep respect, definitely. But this — this ache in your chest as you looked upon his displeased expression — was something entirely new. It made you feel sick.

“Hey hot shot! Bandana! Get in here” the grating call came from Cid’s office, and you ground your teeth at the irritating nickname.

You slipped from your seat at the bar, glancing over in Hunter's direction. He stayed seated, twirling his vibroblade between his fingers and watching you walk across the room. Your gaze fell to his fingers flipping the knife about, and you had to pull your eyes away when your mind brought forth how enticing you found it.

“What is it?” you spoke harshly as you entered the office, little patience for the Trandoshan sat behind the desk.

“That's no way to talk to your employer” Cid chided as she stood from her seat, making her way around the desk to stand in front of you. You had to look down to meet her eyes, and it gave you a small bit of satisfaction. At least you could say you looked down on her, even if she was a pain in your ass.

“What is this about?” a gruff voice spoke up, and you eyes followed Hunter as he walked into the room and stood beside you at the desk.

Cid rolled her eyes, “You two are a right pair” she muttered as she walked towards the door, “I don't know what your problem is, but you two need to figure it out, because your foul attitudes are bringing down the mood around here”

You glanced up at Hunter, noting his grinding jaw and narrowed eyes.

“I'd rather n—”

“It wasn't a request, bandana” Cid held her hand up to stop him and stepped out of her office, “Now, please, get over yourselves and figure this out. Just don't do anything on my desk and you'll still be employed after this is over”

“After wha—?”

You question was answered when Cid pressed a button on the control panel and closed the door. You heard the lock engage, and cringed at the implication. You were locked in here with Hunter. The one person you were both avoiding and actively seeking attention from.

Hunter grumbled and strode over to the door, repeatedly prodding at the open button on the panel, with nothing to show for it.

You sighed, “There's no point”

Hunter turned to look at you, leaning his back against the door and crossing his arms across his chest. He looked at you down his nose, as if in disgust, and you couldn't help but feel small.

“We should probably talk… right?” you offered, and he grunted in reply.

“I'm listening”

You had been banking on him having something to say, but that was foolish of you. Of course he wasn't going to make it easy. Unfortunately, you didn't have anything to say either, so you just stood watching each other for a moment.

“Um, I—” you gulped, “I'm sorry?”

Hunter laughed, an unamused sound that made your stomach turn.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly.

“Well I, uh…” your shoulders sagged, your posture defeated, “I don't know”

“Hm” he tilted his head a little as he looked down at you, “then I suppose your apology isn't accepted”

You huffed, giving him a frown, “come on man, give me something to work with here”

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked, his face adorning it's own frown.

“What does ‘not like this’ mean?” you rebutted, your tone holding an exasperation.

Hunter pressed his mouth into a hard line as he looked away from you, “that's none of your business”

“I think its exactly my business actually,” you moved forwards, stepping into his space, “and I want to know”

He gave you a dubious look, his voice low, “why?”

“Because,” you rolled your eyes, “believe it or not, it matters what you think of me”

Hunter went to speak, then paused, a deep breath escaping him, “I think you know what it means”

You pressed your lips together, irritated that he couldn't just come out and say it, “Then… why won't you talk to me?”

“Because there's nothing to say” he looked away, and you could see his cheeks tinge pink, “can we just forget that it happened and move on?”

His obvious embarrassment almost made you laugh.

“And what if I don't want to?”

That got his attention.

“What?” he asked, his voice careful, measured, making sure he understood you.

“I don't want to forget that it happened” you reiterated.

“Why?”

You shook your head slightly. When was this man going to get the memo. A smile pulled at your lips and you stepped right in front of him.

“Because, Hunter…” your smile turned to a smirk, “maybe I want it to happen again”

Hunter's eyebrows raised as he looked down at you, and he pushed off of the door, uncrossing his arms and finally taking down his physical and mental barriers.

“You do?”

“Mhm” you replied in a lilting hum.

He didn't need to be told twice.

Hunter grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body flush against his, and his lips found yours shortly thereafter. He kissed you with a passion to rival that of the first one, but this time you knew it was real, that he really meant it. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, his change in attitude since your confession amusing you.

“Something funny?” he mumbled against you, not giving you a chance to answer before his lips were on yours again, pushing you backwards so your body hit the desk.

“Just you” you replied, a chuckle bubbling up and out of you as he huffed.

His lips trailed kisses along your jaw as he leaned down, his hands hooking underneath your thighs and lifting you easily to sit atop the desk. A small squeak left your lips at the unexpected action, and you could feel Hunter smirk against your neck as he parted your legs further and came to stand in between them. His nose brushed against a sensitive spot just behind your ear, and a shiver ran up your spine, a small gasp escaping your lips.

“Fuck, you smell so good” he mumbled between kisses to your collarbone, and the breathless tone and sentiment sent an unexpected thrill through you. You gently scraped your fingernails down the back of his neck, earning a groan in return, and he brought his lips back up to yours in a hurry.

You couldn’t get enough, and you would’ve taken more, had you not been so rudely interrupted.

“I said not to do anything on my desk!”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565

#trex writings #star wars #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #clone troopers #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter tbb #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the clone wars #clones #divider by saradika

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huntershoe · 1 year ago

Text

Back to you

Hunter x Jedi!reader

Spoilers for the bad batch season 3 :)

Summary: After a long time, you're finally reunited with your family and your lover.

Warning: Canon violence, Mention of mental and physical torture, slight depressing state, hurt/comfort. Fluff!

A/N: Let me know if anyone would like part two. I was planning on making it spicy ;}

Word count: 2.4k

Part two

It's been months since you got a distress signal from one of your fellow surviving Jedi. Months since you managed to rescue your Jedi friend but sacrifice your own freedom. Months since you've seen your family and your lover.

The last thing you remember from when you were still with the batch was when you were all on Pabu, helping the people restore the beautiful ocean city while you were waiting to get any word from Echo as he helped Rex.

When the only thing missing was Crosshair.

You got the distress signal the same day Echo said he would visit. You knew you couldn't wait for your friend to visit, so with a tight hug, a long and loving kiss and a promise to return safely and quickly, you set the course for your Jedi friend.

Unfortunately, your plan wasn't Vader proof and you ended up captured, switching your place with your friend who managed to escape. You waited for your end, silently apologizing to Hunter and your family, but it never came. Instead, Darth Vader decided you would make a great addition to the imperial inquisitors, so they tried to break you, in every possible way.

For months, they tortured you mentally and physically, leaving you crying and barely alive at the end of every day. But you never broke, no matter what they did to you, you didn't break. There were times when it came close, but thinking of your batch and Hunter gave you strength to fight on.

So when the first opportunity to escape came, you took it. Doing everything in you capacity, even if it meant you'd have to tap into the dark side of the force. Your body had been weakened in the past months, your skin now covered in scars but that didn't stop you and you managed to escape, hijacking an imperial ship and running.

It seemed that even the force was on your side once you coincidentally run into Echo, Rex and the newly forming Clone resistance. But all your happiness disappeared once Echo informed you of the loss they suffered almost immediately you were gone. All those months, just the idea of coming back to your family and how everything would be perfect once again. Everything fell apart and you felt like you were once again in that cold prison cell, waiting for the inquisitors to torture you again. You were falling into the dark abyss, ashamed to even show yourself to Hunter and Wrecker.

It wasn't until Echo came looking for you, four days later. His body radiating happy energy as he practically jumped on you, hugging you and telling you that both Omega and Crosshair managed to escape and were now safely with Hunter and Wrecker on Pabu.

That made you hyperactive, filling you with energy and will to live and both you and Echo were in the ship only few hours later, crossing the galaxy to get back to your family once again.

Three days later you finally made it to Pabu, docking the ship at the top of the city. But while waiting for the ship to touch the ground in a matter of those seconds, your mind betrayed you. Suddenly all you wanted to do was to hide in the corner and dissappear, all those happy thoughts dissappeard, instead being replaced with dark and hateful thoughts. You imagined how Hunter must hate you now that you only returned once everything was alright again. How you dissappeard when they needed you the most. Maybe he's even blaming you for everything bad that happened to his family. Or maybe Omega's the one who hates you now, maybe she thinks that you betrayed them, leaving your family to help someone else.

Your whole body was shaking and you felt like you would faint and when the ramp finally began to descend and the sun shined on your face, Echo had to gently grab you because you swayed like a fragile flower in the wind.

Both you and Echo managed to take a few steps down the ramp before you heard a loud yell. Omega screamed yours and Echo's name, sprinting full speed at you, making you react the same. You yelled her name and she jumped in your arms as you quickly prepared to catch her, hugging her close to you as you began crying, peppering her face with kisses and petting her hair. You managed to crouch with Omega in front of you as you grabbed her cheeks and looked at her more closely, checking for any injuries as she cried telling you how much she missed you.

But as soon as Omegas eyes fell on your face her expression fell as well.

"What happened to your face!" Big tears began rolling down her cheeks as she looked at you. Similar to your body, your face was now littered with both small and big scars, some more visible than the others.

It's been months since you've seen Omega, the young female clone that had unexpectedly entered your life and become like a daughter to you. And after so long, you didn't want your scars to be the first thing you talk about, it was too dark subject to address in the first moments of reunion. So you moved your hands up to her hair, trying to change the subject to something happier.

"Look at your hair! It's grown so much!" You laughed through your tears as you played with the little girl's hair.

"I know, now you can finally braid my hair!" The young girl knew what your were trying to do and played along giggling as she mirrored your hands movements and played with your hair.

You were just about to respond when you both got interrupted by someone whispering your name. Your head snapped behind Omega, falling on a frozen figure, Hunter.

Your body went rigid, completely frozen in time when your eyes meet with his golden ones. Omegas eyes followed yours and once she saw Hunter standing there silently watching, she hugged you one last time before slowly removing herself from you and running towards waiting Echo.

Now that Omega was no longer in front of you, you stood up slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he watched your every move like he couldn't believe you were really there.

Your hands began shaking again and you grabbed your sleeves to try and stop them but to no avail.

"Hunter?"

You whispered back to him, taking a small step towards him. He said nothing, but his body moved and he was by you in the next second, his hands enveloping your body as his own crashed against yours. He squeezed you almost as hard as he could, fearing that if he wouldn't, you would've disappeared again. Hunter buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as your hands slowly stopped shaking and you moved them up into his hair. Your forehead fell on his shoulder as you finally closed your eyes, taking in his warm presence. You both stood there for a long minute, not moving as you both tried to soak in each other's warmth.

You felt Hunter deeply inhale once again, his breath tickling your neck, before his lips pressed against the same spot and he kissed you. Repeating the movement kissing up your neck, slowly coming to your face as his hands moved up to your neck, and his thumbs landed on your cheeks as his eyes found yours again. Hunter breathed out your name again, his face so close to yours.

"I thought I lost you..." His normally smoky voice sounded broken, quiet, like he was worried he would scare you away if he'd talk any louder. His own hands began to shake slightly as he gently turned your face around, his eyes jumping from scar to scar.

"Hunter, I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you, I really did but they-" You tried explaining yourself as his eyes found yours again.

"When your ship returned I thought to myself at least I got one of my girls back...but then only General Prima came out and she could barely look me in the eyes to tell me what happened..." Hunter let out a sigh as his thumb traced the scar across your lips.

"...I thought I lost you and I couldn't bare to even think of what they're doing to you...I tried get you back every day, you and Omega..." He went on slowly and quietly, his other thumb tracing the scar across your eye.

"I'm so sorry Hunter-" You tried to apologise again but he interrupted you again with his thumb on your lips.

"Just...just promise me to never leave me again...I...I can't live without you." Hunter whispered as one tear left his eye and you moved your hand to his cheek, brushing it away as he leaned into your touch.

"I promise Hunter, never again." You nodded your head as you promised him, your own tears escaping you again and you moved your head, leaning your forehead against his.

Hunter let out a gentle puff of air, making your lips tingle as the air hit them. His own lips ghosting over yours as he whispered. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ka'ra."

A small smile appeared on your lips and you gently nodded. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ashi dul."

You responded and finally moved, pressing your lips against his into a long and loving kiss.

Hunter's hands moved back down to your waist and he pulled you closer again as his kiss turned more desperate.

Your own hands moved around his neck as you pulled yourself impossibly closer, a small sound escaping you as Hunters hand squeezed your hip and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips as he entered your mouth in almost like urgent matter.

You let him take the reins and followed his tempo, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you again.

"Okay, you can continue doing that later! Now it's my turn!" You heard Wrecker before another set of arms snaked around you and Hunter, squeezing you even further and lifting you in the air. Both you and Hunter gasped, breaking the kiss to look at the gentle giant as he hugged you, leaning his head on your shoulders. You chuckled, grinning and squeezing one arm out and moving it to gently pat Wreckers head. "I missed you too Wrecker." Even Hunter managed a chuckle as he heard his brother sniffle quietly.

"We're never splitting ever again." Wrecker decided as he slowly put them down and brushed the tears from his eyes away. "Agreed." You nod, grabbing the giant clone's hand and squeezing it.

"What, no hug for me?" Crosshair's sly snake like voice asked as he came closer and crossed his arms in front of his chest an amused frown on his face. Your head turned in his direction and a wide smile grew on your lips and you gently let go of Wrecker and moved around Hunter, letting your hands to drag across his chest as you stepped closer to his youngest brother. "Crosshair!" You grinned and quickly moved closer to him, enveloping him into a big hug. Your movement surprised him greatly as he was expecting a glare and a witty remark instead you hugged him.

His arms were awkwardly waiting at his sides, debating if he should hug you back or push you away. Alas, you were the only one that hugged him so far and he'd be lying to himself if he'd say he didn't need a hug. So he let his arms slowly sneak around your body and he hugged you back, silently laying his head on top of yours.

"I'm glad you're back with us again." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and you felt his breath hitch.

He slowly let go of you and stepped back a little, watching the scars across your face.

"Come on, you have to meet Batcher!" Omega gasped, grabbing your hand out of nowhere and pulling you towards what looked to be a excited Lurca hound, running around and chasing Moon-yos. You chuckled at the enthusiasm of the little girl and looked back behind you to your lover and the rest of your family, only to see Hunter slightly glaring at Crosshair and Echo rolling his eyes and pushing the former Sergeant, encouraging him to move, while Wrecker only laughed and followed closely.

Omega managed to introduce you to the lively hound, telling you how she helped her and how they bonded over the time as they managed to survive the empire. Batcher seemed to be the perfect energetic pet for Omega as they began playing together, almost forgetting everyone else that was watching them.

You felt a warm hand on the small of your back and a moment later a warm body pressed against your side as Hunter lowered his head to whisper in your ear. "Come on, you must be starving." He pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as you turned your head to look at him. "A little, yeah." You confirmed and Hunter motioned with his head to his brothers, before gently pushing you towards the house reserved for the batch.

Hunter whistled, making Omegas and Batchers heads turn, motioning them to follow too.

The shining sun had slowly began to descend as they sat down around the table after they put on some food. They snacked on the delicious fruits, talking about everything, just like they did in the old days, while they watched Omega and Batcher play.

The moment felt perfect, besides the one empty chair, remaining everyone that they will never be complete again. Everything else felt normal, Crosshair's witty remarks, Wrecker's compliments to the food, Echo trying to talk about another one of his missions and Hunter silently trying to listen to everyone as his hand slowly fell on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure you and himself that this moment is in fact real.

Translation:

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - Mandalorian way of saying "I love you"

Ner ka'ra - My star

Ner ashi dul - My other half

#sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #clone troopers #star wars #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #omega tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb rex #fluff

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skellymom · 1 year ago

Text

"HUNT AND PECK"

Hunter x Reader Supporting Character Smutty One Shot

(With comedy mixed in)

(Credit for Pinterest photo: mishusheadache)

FIRST IN THE SERIES: "TALES FROM THE EDIBLE"

(Divider credit: @cafekitsune and @4gelic-wh1spers)

BACKGROUND: Hunter converses with his anatomy. We get to be in BOTH heads at once!

WORD COUNT: 1.3K

WARNING: Swearing, references to sexual organs, sexual sounds, reference to the sexual act, mentions of body fluids, angst, sexual pining, dirty humor, wing men, unspoken consent to the sexual act.

Inspired by a post about Hunter typing "Hunt and Peck" style by" @im-no-jedi

Link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743260093984997376/this-also-speaks-to-how-none-of-the-batch-have

AND

This silly movie scene from the 1980's flick "Real Genius"

youtube

The Batch finished up their latest mission, picking up a new passenger along the way. Y/N was a Force sensitive hitching a ride to a planet they would be passing on the way to Kamino. She would only be with them a few standard days on the Marauder, and the crew made sure she had a comfortable stay.

Within two days Hunter was smitten. He usually kept himself from developing any attachments to nat borns. But...well, this one was different...and difficult to ignore. Of course, he still engaged with her politely. Being a Sergeant and host on this transport, he kept some distance.

Y/N was attractive. Not conventionally, as he wouldn’t consider himself attracted to just ANY pretty face. But she had that...thing. An essence? Something that just took him out at the knees. It was elusive...

...and she smelled SO GOOD. Hell, even when she was sweaty, dirty, just woke up in the morning...heady scent of her body odor with the slightest tang of her sex...

Hunter shifted in the pilot’s seat. His armor codpiece felt tight. Dammit, he NEEDED to stop getting distracted. He was supposed to be sitting watch on the ship.

Technically Echo was to stand this shift. However, he was under the weather and now lying down like the rest of his brothers.

Hunter could hear Crosshair breathing, Echo’s ticking mechanical heart, and smell Tech’s drool...as he slept face down with mouth open. Wreckers' snores were like a power tool, until his sleep apnea kicked in. Hunter would count the seconds unconsciously holding his own breath too...until Wrecker finally inhaled.

Hunter inhaled deeply just thinking about it...

...until Y/N sighed in her sleep. The sound brought his attention back to the heat and tightness in his groin.

Cut it out Peck! Hunter internally warned his cock.

Yes, Hunter nicknamed his pecker. And he admitted it to NO ONE! Although, he came close one time when Echo confidentially revealed to Hunter that he named his scomp.

Oh Broody...you’re such a tight ass PRUDE!

Hunter shot up from the chair looking around the cockpit. He SWORE he heard a whisper so close...unsure if it was outside or INSIDE HIS HEAD!!!

KRIFF, I’m hearing things. Although, it was his THIRD consecutive day of chronic insomnia. Was he hallucinating?

Listening again, Hunter could perceive everyone was asleep and accounted for. He sat back down.

Broody...it’s me! Peck!!! In a strangely soft but high-pitched voice.

Then the voice started clucking.

Hunter spun around in the chair. He felt for CERTAIN there were NO CHICKENS on the Marauder. Shit...he REALLY needed to start taking that nasty tasting sleep medication Tech concocted.

Finally lost my mind...was bound to eventually happen. Lack of sleep, having to look after his bonehead brothers, save Echo, and... sitting here alone in the starlit darkness. Running his hand down his face and resigned himself to having an internal discussion with his own cock. What would it hurt? Besides everyone was asleep. Let’s just go with it and see...

Peck? Hunter called out with his mind.

Yeah Broody?

I’m NOT a prude. Just polite.

Y/N is a grown ass woman, Hunter. You CAN talk to her.

What would I say?

She needs MORE than those furtive glances and puppy dog eyes. Show her the WOLF you are, Hunter.

She’s our guest NOT a sex object!

Oh...so she’s NEVER had an impure thought about YOU?

A very feminine moan and a sigh wafted from the pallet Y/N was sleeping on the bunk room floor. She must have been having a hell of a dream...as Hunter could smell her wet arousal.

Hunter’s cock was now becoming painful with an intense pressure against his codpiece.

Clucking...C’mon ole boy. Would you deny yourself the opportunity of a grown woman’s consent?

You DON’T KNOW if she even thinks about me THAT WAY!

Oh YES I DO!

Hunter ripped the codpiece off and threw it behind him. His girthy engorged cock staining through his blacks...and leaving a wet spot.

Ohh...THANK FORCE you let me out! Suffocating in there!!! Clucking...

SHUT UP! Hunter pushed his pecker down between his legs, then crossed them tightly.

Mmhmm, hmm, mhm mmm... Muffled speech. Clucking intensified.

DANK FERRICK! She did look at him a lot and smiled. He could sense her body reacting to him MUCH differently than his brothers. The thrumming of her presence on his senses. Something he guessed was her Force sensitivity. It would tickle his nerve endings and make him shiver...in a VERY good way. Was Y/N flirting with the Force? Hunter wasn’t exactly sure.

But he didn’t want to take advantage and come off as a creep.

Hunter was so caught up in his head he barely registered a rustling...

...and swung the chair around to face...

...Y/N standing there, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, eyes hooded in desire.

Hunter sprang up out of the chair and his cock sprang up from between his legs. His expression was of dumb embarrassment due to all the blood rushing away from his brain.

Her gaze lingered on his cock. Then she stared him straight in the eyes...

...and dropped her blanket. She was buck naked.

Hunter’s jaw dropped. Y/N giggled seductively, strolled over to Hunter and pressed everything she had up against him.

He almost died of heart failure but managed to gently slide both hands up her back in a tender caress.

“Are you sure???”

“Yes, Hunter...PLEASE EAT me and FUCK me!” With that she grabbed two handfuls of his luxurious hair and devoured his mouth.

Hunter, ever the gentleman who could follow directions to the letter, obliged her.

“Permission to FINALLY stop drooling upon the sheets? Feel like I’m still on Kamino...” Tech whispered.

Quiet moaning from the cockpit area.

Echo whispered back on the comm channel “Everyone, the coast is clear. Target engaged.”

Everyone received the order via earpiece. They could now relax and drop the ruse of being asleep.

Tech sighed, “Now I can FINALLY get in the refresher. He was spending an abnormal amount of time in there lately...”

“Look who's talking, Mr Clean. Wrecker piped up. “Shiniest dick in the galaxy.”

“At least Hunter cleans the cum off the shower walls.” Tech shot Wrecker a baleful stare

“Ey, can’t help I got a big dick.” Wrecker smiled like a shithead, nodding at Tech’s crotch. “Can’t help making a BIG splash...and miss some at times.”

“ARE YOU IMPLYING MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGAN IS LESS THAN SUFFICIENT SIZE???”

Echo interrupted on comm, “Will the two of you QUIET THE FUCK DOWN! Our target will disengage...and Y/N will not acquire the asset!”

Wrecker giggled, “Oh, she’s definitely acquiring that ASS-ET!” Getting louder again.

Echo and Tech shushed him again.

Clucking continued over the coms...

Echo slid to the edge of his bunk and looked up. Crosshair lay on the top bunk, pillow pressed savagely over his face. He was shaking and clucking like a deranged farm fowl.

“If I had known you’d carry on so much, would have been the voice myself. Plus, you SERIOUSLY veered off script!” Echo sneered. Wondering if he was the only one on this ship, save their guest, to have at least one brain cell.

His musing was interrupted by much louder moans, sexual swears, and the wet slapping of flesh.

“Engage ear protection. Sound cancelling level 10. NO eavesdropping, men. We may be feral and efficient commandos, but we STILL have some semblance of morals!”

The clucking turned to coughing. “That’s what YOU think!” Crosshair finally got a hold of himself.

Echo rolled his eyes and threw the covers over his head. Thankfully N/A being Force sensitive was able to help them by dampening their ambient noise to Hunter's senses and...

...OH!

Echo’s eyes popped open realizing...she ALSO had to give CROSSHAIR access to the mental conversation in Hunter’s head to be as effective a voice as possible!

And... Crosshair laughed all through it like a fucking MANIAC!

Echo sighed. That boy ain’t right....

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

*Bone-us content: This vintage tune from my young adulthood (1990's) popped into my head...and thought I'd share. Hunter diggin' that bad girl and how she smelled.

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meshla-cyarika · 10 months ago

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dindjarindiaries · 2 months ago

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Quiet Minds

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: "You know you can always talk to me." / "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

warnings: anxiety attack

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Your durasteel grip on the refresher's sink was the only thing keeping you steady as you spiraled quickly, descending into darkness like the water that circled the drain. Each breath you took was a battle, evidenced by your shaky inhales and gasping exhales.

Your chest squeezed just as tight as your eyelids, adding yet another distraction that kept you from steadying your breath. Everything was just happening too fast. Your mind, heart, and body were competing in an endless, impossible race, and there was no way for you to catch up.

When every day was spent on the cusp of danger, it was hard not to fall into this pit of despair time and time again, especially when you were haunted by the close calls you had witnessed every time you closed your eyes.

It was a combination of Hunter's smoking chestplate and his figure descending from the Marauder's ramp that had gotten you this time. It always came back to him somehow.

You tucked your chin towards your chest in a futile effort to loosen the pressure in your chest. Your arms were starting to tremble with the rest of your body, making them even less reliable supports as you continued to lean upon the sink.

What if, those two words taunted you relentlessly. What if. What if. What if.

What if Hunter hadn't made it. What if something actually happened to him, or any of them. What if you were alone again.

The cacophony of dark thoughts was so loud inside your own mind that you barely heard the sound of the refresher door sliding open. Still, your head jerked in that direction as a fresh wave of dread washed over you. You had come in here because you hadn't wanted anyone to see you like this.

But there he was, as if you'd somehow summoned him. Any traces of exhaustion vanished from Hunter's expression as he observed you with wide, concerned eyes.

He stepped inside the refresher and all but slammed his hand on the panel to secure it closed behind him in one fluid movement. "What's going on?" He was at your side in seconds, his hands set on your shoulders as he began to turn you towards him. "I could hear you from my bunk."

As soon as your grip was forced away from the edge of the sink, your unsteady knees buckled beneath you. Hunter caught you the best he could, but he was still forced to kneel down onto the durasteel floor with you. Every breath had turned into nothing but gasps as you held onto his arms like they were buoys in the middle of a vast, endless ocean.

You forced out whatever words you could into a single, breathless gasp. "Can't breathe."

Hunter's brow furrowed even more in both concern and distress. His dark gaze gave you a worried once-over. "Okay." His voice was shakier than usual, but still projected the same comforting firmness you needed. "Okay, hold on."

Hunter stayed on the floor with you as he eased himself towards the nearest hull, taking you with him. His back rested against the hull as he gently pulled you against him. With your back upon his chest, you moved with each steady breath he took, already establishing a calming rhythm for you to follow. Hunter's arms wrapped around your middle, keeping you even more steady, as the side of his head rested against yours.

"Breathe with me. Okay?" Hunter's characteristically smoky voice was as low as usual, but it was also softer, no more than a whisper that was as gentle as the accidental brush of his lips over your ear. "You're alright. You're safe here. We're all safe."

It was the repetition of those words along with the steady rise-and-fall of his chest underneath you that finally pulled you from your endless spiral. You closed your eyes and focused on his voice and his breathing, letting it drown out the sounds of your own struggle. There wasn't time to be embarrassed yet about being caught by him, though it was certainly inevitable. For now, you let him comfort you and pull you out of the crashing waves of fear and dread.

Once you had settled down enough to mostly settle back into your rational mind, you had to fight the urge to push Hunter away, as desperate as you were to have him this close. You hadn't wanted any of them to see you like this, but Hunter least of all. Becoming another worry on his list was your greatest fear.

He had enough to worry about as it was. All you wanted to be for him was a source of joy and light, not the darkness that weighed heavier and heavier on his shoulders with each unpredictable passing day on the run.

"I'm sorry."

Your voice was just as hushed as Hunter's had been, your gaze downcast as you gently eased his hands off you and instead turned around to face him. Hunter's brow furrowed in questioning as he returned your stare.

"I didn't mean to wake you up."

Hunter let out a grunt of clear disapproval. "You should've woken me up." His expression morphed into something like desperation. "Why would you try to get through that alone?"

You shook your head. "It's fine, Hunter, I swear. I'm used..."

You inhaled a sharp breath and forced yourself to stop. Your eyes widened, because the damage had already been done, even if you tried to stop it. Hunter's own eyes grew larger as the realization dawned upon him, his body tensing along with the muscle that flexed in his jaw.

"This... isn't the first time something like this has happened?"

You couldn't look at him anymore. You stared at the durasteel floor as your fingers fumbled with one another in your lap. "No, it's not."

Hunter let out a sigh, but it was far from being one of annoyance. He waited a few beats before speaking again, his voice strained in sweet severity. "You know you can always talk to me."

You could have physically cringed at the hint of hurt you caught in his tone, as if he feared that you didn't trust him enough to tell him. It caused your gaze to snap back up to him, but the way his eyes searched yours was too beautifully sincere for you to handle. You diverted your stare once again and could only let out your confession in a whisper.

"I don't want you to have to take on another burden. You have enough to worry about as it is."

Hunter didn't respond right away. Instead, he shuffled closer to you again, close enough that he could set a careful hand on your shoulder. The touch earned him your attention again, and your mouth nearly went dry at how close he truly was to you.

"You're not a burden." Hunter shook his head, his eyes more expressive than you'd ever seen them before as he begged for you to believe his words. "Don't ever think of yourself like that."

He let out another sigh, but this one was lighter than before. Your lips parted in surprise as he closed his eyes and leaned closer to you, only stopping once his forehead was touching yours in the most intimate, gentle way.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me."

It was hard not to soften as soon as you heard the honest, genuine words leave his lips. It would be so unfair for you not to reciprocate the vulnerable gesture.

"I think I do."

Your words caused Hunter to reopen his eyes, his amber gaze filling with curiosity as it searched your own up close. You steadied yourself with a quiet breath and went on.

"Because it was you I was worrying about."

Hunter leaned back from you and blinked a few times in surprise. "Me?"

You looked down in embarrassment again. "You've had some close calls lately. I just... I can't stop thinking about the what-ifs. What if something had happened to you. What if something does happen to you. Or the rest of them. I can't..."

"Hey."

Hunter's voice perfectly balanced gentleness with firmness as he set a hand on your cheek. The gesture earned your attention again, and it was easy to lose yourself in the pure comfort of his soft gaze. His eyes flitted between yours before he nodded.

"You don't have to worry about me."

You frowned. "But I do anyway." Your brow creased in your own desperation for understanding. "Because you mean a lot to me, too."

Hunter softened, but only for a moment. His jaw was soon hardening as his gaze fell to the floor. His thumb was gently running over your cheek in absentminded strokes, but everything else was hard edges as his stare searched the durasteel beneath you.

"I hate that I'm putting you through this."

You frowned even more harshly than before. "You're not." You wrapped your hand around his wrist in an attempt to comfort him. "It's not your fault. It's just..."

You trailed off, trying to find the right words. Hunter was eventually able to fill the space.

"I understand."

Your gaze met Hunter's as he nodded and went on.

"It's the same reason why I don't sleep well. I never have. I'm always thinking about the what-ifs, and... especially recently... the what-I-could-have-done-betters."

You took his hand from your face and set it between both of yours. "Hunter..."

"I think..." The sergeant was rarely shy, but now, he seemed timid as he watched your hands and made his suggestion. "We just have to stop worrying on our own." He let out a huff and shook his head. "Our minds are doing us no favors."

You were able to offer him a small smile. "I think you're right."

You quieted your mind for once, taking Hunter's advice, and leaned towards him. You wrapped your arms around his waist the way he had with you not long ago, but this time, your chest was upon his own as you rested your cheek against his shoulder and relaxed into him. It only took Hunter a single breath to do the same, his arms circling you as he relaxed underneath your touch.

"No more listening to our minds."

You felt Hunter's chin rest upon your head before he responded with a smile in his voice. "No more. Just... whatever this is."

You closed your eyes and smiled. "Agreed."

#the safest place in the galaxy is w him idc and omega proves that #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #hunter tbb #sergeant hunter #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do one where the reader had been in a relationship with Hunter before being taken with Omega on Tantiss. Now that they're reunited, Hunter realizes that he wants to marry the reader?

With a little bit of Wrecker and Crosshair friendly teasing Hunter.

Marry Me?

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After an insufferable separation from you, Hunter realizes his true feelings. That he never wants to be apart from you- that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Part Two right here! Part Three right here!

A/N- SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 OF THE BAD BATCH!!!! You have been warned! Thank you so much for requesting babes! Hope you like it! <3 <3

Word Count- 1,755

Beautiful Screen Shot by @isthereanechoinhere96

"Omega... It's- It's been months. We don't even know if they're still aliv-"

You felt shame rise up in your chest when you agreed with Crosshair. He was right, time had gone by slowly and there was no way of knowing if Hunter and Wrecker were alive. Your sweet sweet Hunter. The man who only showed he heart for the people he deeply loved. You were lucky to be one of them.

"They'll be there." Omega stated. She was so sure... but all you could think about were the doubts. Omega was always able to be more trusting and optimistic than you. Constant fear of losing your family limited you severely.

You swallowed deeply and looked down to Omega, pushing your anxieties down. "They will be." Were you trying to convince Crosshair or yourself?

The next few minutes of hyper-space felt like days. You were so eager. Everything was either going to get a million times worse, or a million times better.

Omega guided the ship to a remote planet you had never heard of, a deep blue over taking you.

Picking at your nails nervously, you stood- ready to depart. Crosshair noticed this and eyed you. He was nervous as well, but for different reasons.

You almost sobbed when you saw the Marauder in the distance. Hope bubbled in your chest, all thoughts of doubt escaped you.

The second the door lowered with a steam, Omega ran out of the ship. You followed her quickly behind.

She stopped at the mid-point between the ships. Wrecker slowly exited the Marauder, "Now there's a sight!"

You laughed, the tension dissipated. Omega ran to him and Wrecker picked her up, spinning around. "Wrecker!" She responded.

The sight made tears of joy fall. To see Omega so happy was enough for you.

"And I wasn't even sure your message was real!" Wrecker half-joked, still holding Omega up.

"Wrecker, I knew you'd show up!" Her words made your ears ring, did Hunter show up? Well, of course he did! That would be dumb for him to leave Wrecker... Unless, unless he wasn't alive to leave.

Your brain ran wild, why hadn't Hunter come out yet? It was almost as if Wrecker read your mind, he rested a hand on your shoulder after lowering Omega.

Just then, another set of footsteps came out. Hunter skipped steps to get to you and Omega.

Your hands shot up to cover your gasp, tears falling fast now. Omega got to Hunter first- you knew she needed it more.

He crouched down and hugged Omega deeply, his words drowned out. What you did make out was him saying your name, an arm stretched out for you and an arm holding Omega tightly.

You met him as fast as your feet would let you. "Hunter..." You whispered, face immediately meeting his neck as he pulled you close.

His arm pulled you in, crushing you against him in a pleasant way.

He pulled back to pepper your face with kisses, then a deep one on the lips. A few of your tears dripped onto his face, mixing with his own.

Omega giggled and pulled on your arm, you pulled back to let her back in on the hug. All three of you were lifted when Wreckers arms grasped around the bunch of you.

Wrecker pulled everyone up, making the embrace tighter. It was like your perfect little family was back again.

That night, after abandoning the empire's ship, was filled with more hugs, catching up, tears, and awkward conversations with Crosshair. You couldn't have wished for anything better. Your family, all in one place. Save for Echo, but you learnt he was safe with Rex- that made you smile.

You helped Omega settle into her room. You noticed too many yawns and drifting off, she was worn out emotionally and physically.

You spoke with her softly, reminding her everyone would still be here in the morning. Picking up Lula, her doll, and tucking it under her arm gave out the last yawn.

"Can I talk to Hunter?" She questioned with big eyes.

"Of course, baby. I'll be right back" You pet her hair back and left to go retrieve him.

You stopped when you saw him, Crosshair, and Wrecker whispering in the cock-pit.

"Ahaha! Be a man, just ask!" Wrecker said as he patted Hunters back harshly. Ask who? What would he have to 'be a man' about?

"If you say it any louder he won't have to..." Crosshair remarked.

"Oh! Sooorry." Wrecker dragged out.

"Both of you hush, I'll do it when I feel the time is right." Hunter spoke, his husky voice immediately filling you with warmth.

"You got this!" Wrecker exclaimed again, this time he earned a "Shhh!" from both Hunter and Crosshair.

You slowly entered the cock-pit, this time making your appearance known.

"Oh! Hello!" Wrecker greeted loudly, signalling to Hunter you were in the room. Hunter just sighed and shook his head.

You were curious about the conversation, but thought it might not be any of your business.

Smiling, you started, "Omega wants you to finish putting her to bed, Hunter." The way his face lit up had you star-struck. Almost like he couldn't believe she wanted him. "Thank you."

He nodded and headed her way, a hand cupping and maneuvering around your waist as he passed you. His subtle but frequent small touches warmed your heart.

You took a seat in the co-pilot chair, swiveling to look at Crosshair and Wrecker. Both looked down at you with crossed arms and smug looks.

"What?" You wondered if there was something on your face, or if you just took someones spot.

"Nooothing, we will be heading off to sleep now. RIGHT Crosshair?" Wrecker spoke in a suspicious voice, elbowing him in the side. Crosshiar grunted but agreed, leaving you alone.

Weird.

But then again, nothing was normal on this ship.

You took this time to lean back and take a few minutes of rest alone. It was nice being able to relax by yourself, knowing everyone was safe.

After a handful of minutes, Hunter made his way back from Omega. He took the seat next to yours, turning to face you.

"How are you doing?" You asked, sparking conversation.

"Fine, I'm just happy you guys are here... I keep thinking i'm going to blink and you'll both be gone..." His words shook at the end. You sat up, understanding the seriousness of the conversation.

"Hunter, Omega and I are alive and safe. We are here and we are not going anywhere." You rose and stood between his legs, hands cupping his face.

He looked up at you, tears filling his eyes slowly.

"What if I can't protect you two again?" He brought up a hand to rest at your hip, the other on his leg.

You rested your forehead against his, "That was a freak accident, baby. No one could have stopped that. Now we have Crosshair, Batcher, and we are ready for anything. We will keep Omega from the Empire. I promise."

He took a deep breath in, like he had just decided something.

He started by saying your name, "You always know just what to say. I wish I had that ability..." He closed his eyes and breathed you in for a moment, then he spoke again. "When... When we were apart I was so lost."

"I kno-"

"No, I don't think you understand. I couldn't think of anything but you and Omega. I was so broken without you." He repeated your name.

"I-I never want you to be away from me again." His voice got huskier as he spoke, and your legs felt like jello. You just looked at him deeply, nodding.

He started for a second time with a shaky breath, "No one can take you from me again. I will claw my way back to you every damn time." He nods his head up, brushing his nose to the side of your cheek with closed eyes.

You let him speak, even when your mind was flowing with your own comments, "It- The distance, made me realize. There is no one that can compare to you. No other woman I would ever want to be with."

Ah, so that is what they were talking about. You smiled big, awaiting the special phrase.

Tears filled your eyes with his words, he was speaking as raw as he was capable of.

"I can't promise you money or luxury, but I will spend every waking hour fighting to make you happy. Fighting to keep you safe." He pulls back, steadying you with both hands on your hips.

You take in a teary breath to speak, but he cuts you off. "Don't say anything yet, just- Wait here, just a second." He stands, reaching to Crosshair's old storage compartment.

He rushes back with a small box. You raise your hands to cup your own face, bright red. He lowered onto one knee, right in the middle of the cock-pit

"Please, for my own sanity and happiness, will you marry me?" He asks.

"Yes. Yes Hunter, there are no other words than yes." You fall down onto him, arms grasping around his neck.

He lets out a sigh of relief like you'd ever say 'no.'

"Thank you, oh thank you." He whispers into your neck, holding you tight. He only pulls back slightly to kiss you. A kiss so deep and full of emotions your head spun. You just held him, never wanting to let go.

It felt like time stopped, just for you two. Just for a clone trooper and a small girl...

"I never planned on you..." He broke the silence, head placed on top of yours. "But I- you were so damn perfect. Too perfect." You gave a small laugh, looking up to see his handsome face.

You rested a hand on his tattoo, thumbing it. "Hunter, if anyone is perfect it's you. You have so much love for me and Omega... How do you do it?"

"I manage." He smirked, leaning down to smell your hair. Something he used to do frequently when you snuggled in the past.

"Am I now Mrs. Hunter? Or is it Mrs. Trooper?" You joked, pulling back to sit fully on the ship floor. Your hands still filled with his much larger ones.

He smiled at you, another reminder on why he loved you so much. "We can figure out all the fine details later... Just let me kiss you again..."

So, you did.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I loved writing this one, I hope it turned out as good as I thought! Sorry It took me longer to post than usual, I was pretty busy this past week. As always, i'm open to constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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dreamtheatre · 6 months ago

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Say Don't Go

Pairing: Hunter (TBB) x Jedi!Fem!Reader Summary: After your meeting with Rex, you and the Batch thought that you would never have to worry about the inhibitor chips hurting anyone else again. Turns out you were wrong when Hunter's chip activates, causing him to turn against you and the rest of the Batch. Word Count: 3K Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt no comfort descriptions of injury Part Two Here

After meeting with Rex, an old friend of yours and the rest of the Batch, you didn't think you would have to worry about those damned inhibitor chips again. After all, Rex assured you that after the surgery the chips weren't an issue. Turns out he was wrong.

You should've realised something was wrong when Hunter started complaining about his head hurting. You had dwelled vaguely on it, but ultimately decided that it was probably just the weight of everything that had happened after the war - Order 66, finding Omega... it was a lot for anyone. Even a tough Clone Sergeant like Hunter.

You had met Hunter and the rest of the Batch during the final year of the Clone Wars, when you had been excused briefly from your role as Co-General of the 212th Attack Battalion (the other General was your close friend Obi-Wan Kenobi) to help Anakin Skywalker save one of his 501st troopers, Echo. You still remembered and reminisced the exact moment the strange clones stepped down from their ship onto the Coruscant ground.

The Marauder descended from the cloudy Coruscant sky as you stood on the landing platform with Rex, Cody, Kix, and Jesse, bouncing on your heels with anticipation as you awaited the arrival of the so called Bad Batch.

"So, how come I've never heard of this squad?" You asked, and Cody raised an eyebrow, but answered regardless

"Experimental unit Clone Force 99. They’re defective clones with, uh… Desirable mutations." Cody answered, "They call themselves the Bad Batch." The five of you lifted your arms to shield yourselves from the wind as the ship landed with a woosh on the landing platform, and your eyes lit up with curiosity as four clones, varying in height and build and sporting darker coloured clone armour, walked slowly down the ramp.

The tallest and largest one removed his helmet with a wide grin on his face. He sported a scar across the left side of his face, and one blind eye. "The cavalry has arrived!" He hollered.

Behind your back, you heard Kix whispering to Jesse about how the approaching squad didn't look like clones at all, and you couldn't help but agree. Following the first clone's example, the other members of the Batch removed their helmets. There was a lanky one with a datapad in hand and orange-tinted goggles covering his eyes, a tall, slim clone with a target-shaped scar (or maybe it was a tattoo, you couldn't tell) over one eye). The slim clone placed a toothpick in his mouth as he approached them, eyes landing disdainfully on the other clones.

The final clone was just a bit taller than average height, and muscular (not in the same way as Wrecker). He was more similar to the face of the other, regular clones, but he was so... different at the same time. The entire left side of his face was tattooed a darker shade with half of a skull while the right side of his face was left normal. He had sharper amber eyes that pierced into you, unlike the other clones, and had longish dark brown hair, kept away from his forehead by a red bandana sporting a small white skull symbol.

When his eyes met yours, you sucked in a sharp breath. You held eye contact for a second until Cody stepped forward and held out a hand, causing him to cease eye contact with you and focus on Cody.

"Sergeant Hunter. Good to see you again."

Hunter.

"You too, sir." The Sergeant replied earnestly. His voice was different from the clones too. It had just a bit of a smoother edge, like a sly fox, but still held the commanding tone of a commanding soldier. "Sorry we’re late, Commander. We were putting down an insurrection on Yalbec Prime when your comm came in. Had a few unforeseen… complications."

"Ever fought a male Yalbec?" The large, muscular clone asked loudly, holding his belly as he laughed.

"Can't say I have," Jesse answered before anyone else could

"Well, all those Yalbec males tried to eat us." The clone was cut off by the clone with the goggles.

"Ah, technically they were trying to mate with us." The clone rambled. "And, for your information, the stinger of a Yalbec Queen is a delicacy on some planets."

"They call him Tech." Cody told them.

"Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours." Hunter explained, his amber eyes drifted away from Cody back to you. "Crosshair, on the other hand, is not much of a conversationalist, but when you have to hit a precise target from ten klicks, Crosshair’s your man." Hunter paused, and you took a moment to compose yourself before introducing yourself. "It's a pleasure, General."

"The pleasure's mine, Sergeant."

There was a small silence after that, and you swallowed visibley at the tension. You were a Jedi, you always knew how to interact with people without making things awkward... that was pretty much your entire job before the Clone Wars started. So why were you finding it so hard now?

"So, Commander, what kind of suicide mission do you have for us this time?" Hunter finally spoke, tearing his eyes away from glancing up and down your body to look at Cody. Cody cleared his throat, and began explaining the mission as you felt a small elbow on the back from Kix and Jesse. You turned around to see both clones sporting knowing smirks, and causing you to roll your eyes and shove both of their chest plates softly, nearly groaning at their antics.

"Let’s get going, men." You interrupted. "We’ll brief you on the way. There's no time to waste."

Now, standing in behind of Hunter as he suddenly froze, the only movement in the room being the flickering of a candle on a table and the slightest tremble of Hunter's body as he stopped, immobilised in a slightly crouching position.

"Hunter?"

The former sergeant didn't respond, only trembled slightly. Although you had cut yourself off from most of the force, using it being too dangerous after the events of Order 66, you could feel how his force signature was suddenly sucked out of him, as if he hadn't even existed in the first place.

"Hunter, what's wrong?"

Hunter slowly, almost cautiously stood up from his crouched position, not turning around, but still trembling.

"Hunter?" You quickly approached him, worry coursing through your veins as you placed a soft hand on his shoulder plate, frowning further when he still didn't turn around. "Just... wait a moment. I'll call Tech." You dialed in the com-channel with your free hand, one hand still resting on the former sergeant shoulder, not noticing at all that the trembling had ceased. "Here we go." Your smiled slightly in relief when Tech's voice's, but your heart immediately stopped when you focused in on what he was saying as he called out your name urgently.

"I've figured out the reason for the headaches." Tech was saying, his speech rapid and stressed. It was the most panicked you had ever heard him before. "It's his chip. You have to get out of there, now!"

Before you could react, Hunter turned around at the speed of light and pushed you so hard you were sent flying backwards into the opposite wall, the communication device . If it weren't for your slightly enhanced senses that being force-sensitive had granted you, there would've been at least three knives embedded in your body before you even had the chance to move. Luckily, you were flexible and able to move fast enough to grab two of his knives from the wall, one in each hand, and defend yourself when Hunter suddenly appeared beside you, slashing his vibro-blades in precise arcs towards you, only to be either dodged or stopped by the knives that you had stolen from him.

After a couple of minutes of defending yourself, you were beginning to tire out. It wasn't because Hunter was an extremely difficult opponent -you had faced Grievous during the war with only one lightsaber to fight against his countless ones, which you still considered your hardest duel to this day - but because you couldn't bring yourself to fight back. It was a one-sided duel.

"Hunter-" you tried, only to be cut off by dodging another strike. "Hunter, please-"

There was no response, only the continued whooshing of air that followed Hunter's calculated attacks. Slowly tiring out, you realised that you had to make your escape before things got bad. Slowly retreating, you gasped in pain as Hunter's knife finally made contact with its target, slicing diagonally across from your chin across your cheek. Dropping one of the knives instinctively to place a hand on your cheek, you couldn't make a sound as you felt Hunter kick the knife out of your other hand and wrap his arm around your neck from behind, slowly forcing your air supply to drop as you struggled in his grip.

"Hunter-"

"Your survival is in direct violation to Order 66," Hunter stated, and even though his voice sounded more emotionless than you had ever heard it before, you heard the slightest tremble in his voice... and that gave you hope.

Hunter's grip around your neck tightened, causing the world around you to slowly begin to dim as the corners of your vision turned black. In a final attempt, you closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of him around you as you delved into the Force for the first timed in what seemed like centuries, finding his mind and projecting your voice.

"HUNTER!"

Immediately, the former sergeant let out a sharp gasp in surprise as his arms loosened around you and he clutched at his head, as if trying to get the sound of your voice out. Taking the opportunity, you bolted towards the nearest window, not looking back as you quickly made your descent into the busy streets below, blending into the crowd to ensure that Hunter wouldn't find you.

...

"It's a risk-"

"A risk worth taking."

You were gathered in a small huddle inside the Marauder as Tech was giving his brief. It had been two weeks since Hunter's inhibitor chip had activated, even though you had all believed that it had been taken out. Tech told you that since Hunter was the last to remove his chip, the technology on the crashed Jedi cruiser might not have successfully removed all of the remnants, giving the Empire control over his mind.

You had been worried sick about him. What if Hunter had been killed by the Empire upon his return? Realistically, you knew the Empire wouldn't waste what they saw as a 'valuable asset', but you couldn't help but stress as your hand reached up to brush against the scar that had formed on the cut that Hunter had made on your face. When you returned to the Marauder, the bacta patch hadn't been applied quick enough and the wound was too deep not to scar. The bruises around your neck were just fading.

The Marauder had been your home for a while now. After Order 66, you had bumped into the Bad Batch coincidentally while they were on some sort of mission for their new employer, some lizard named Cid. You didn't really like Cid, so you had asked them not to reveal your identity to her. Ever since then, there was always a place on the ship for you. There were two spare bunks, which was perfect for you and Omega.

"I don't like this plan..." Omega spoke up, her wide-blown brown eyes filled with concern. "This puts everyone in danger."

"We're always in danger-" you were cut off as Omega continued.

"Especially you." Omega exclaimed, staring at you pleadingly. You sighed as you bent down on one knee in front of the small clone.

"Hey... we're going to be okay," you promised with a small smile. "We're always okay. Aren't we, boys?" Echo shrugged, Wrecker nodded his head enthusiastically, Crosshair continued polishing his rifle, and Tech shook his head. "Wow. Thanks to Wrecker and only Wrecker."

"You got it!"

"I'll keep an eye on our sarad," Crosshair told Omega, who didn't look a bit less stressed. Sarad, meaning flower in Mando'a, was the Batch's nickname for you. It had become more common to use the nickname than your real name, at this point.

"See?" You told Omega. "I'll be fine. Promise." Omega's eyes darted around the room as if looking for support, but each of her brother's expressions were just as determined as yours.

"We're going to get Hunter back safely." Echo exclaimed, and the rest of the Batch nodded in approval, even Crosshair gave the slightest bob of the head. At that, Omega sighed as she quickly ran over to you, still on one knee. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you returned the hug effortlessly. As a Jedi, you didn't really hug people often. You supposed this was one of the good things that came with the end of the Order - freedom with your own emotions.

"Stay safe," Omega whispered in your ear.

"Always."

...

Walking through the dense forest of some planet on the edges of the Outer Rim, you held on tightly to the blaster that you had brought with you. The plan to get Hunter back was simple. Tech had tracked Hunter down. He had returned to the Empire and was now in full service, going on missions to hunt down the remaining Jedi. As far as you knew, he hadn't caught any so far, but he would've informed the Empire of your survival.

Tech's plan was for you to go in alone, this time fully equipped if a fight broke out. He would stay with the Marauder nearby while Echo and Wrecker distracted the team that Hunter was sent with and Crosshair found a sniper's nest somewhere and watched your backs. All you had to do was stun Hunter with your blaster and bring him back to the Marauder so that Tech could perform a surgery to remove what remained of the Inhibitor chip.

As you continued to make your way through the forest, stopping at a clearing, you could feel his presence behind you. You had known that he was following you for a while, but you wanted to wait for him to attack first. What was curious was that he didn't. As you made your way to the middle of the small clearing, you turned on your heel to face him.

And there he was.

The trees cast a shadow over his body, and the only light that illuminated either one of them was the dual white moons that slowly moved over the clear night sky. You tightened your grip on your blaster as you stared at him.

Hunter's black and red armour had been replaced by clean grey armour, with no embellishments whatsoever. Your nose scrunched up at that. The Empire was disgusting for not letting its soldiers have personality... or control over their own minds.

Surprisingly, Hunter began to speak first. "It seems as if you came to me."

"What gave it away?" You retorted.

"A miscalculated decision on your behalf," Hunter continued as if he hadn't heard you. You shook your head at the way he was speaking. Hunter didn't talk like this... "You were quite easy to track, but it almost seemed as if you wanted me to find you."

"Hunter," You pleaded, a wave of emotion suddenly crashing over you. "Please. We just want you to come home."

"Home," Hunter mused mockingly, his head tilting to the side. Even through his grey helmet, you could feel his cold gaze on you. "What an idiotic thought-"

"It's not," You cut him off. "You have a home, and it's with us! With your Batch, and Omega, and..." you swallowed visibly. "And me." Hunter remained silent as you slowly took a step towards him, then another. And another.

"Don't think I didn't notice all those times you called me those nicknames." You continued as you got closer and closer. "Mesh'la, cyar'ika... I asked Echo what they meant and he said they were names that Mandalorians used to call their loved ones." You let out a quiet laugh. You were less than five feet away from him now. "And I don't know how exactly you feel about me, but I know how I feel about you." You sighed stopped directly in front of him. "Jedi's aren't supposed to form attachments, or feel things, or say these things to others but... I'm not a Jedi anymore. The Order is long gone, and I'm free to say whatever the kriff I want." There was a short pause. "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."

Both of you let out a quiet gasp at the same time, as Hunter immediately fell backwards and collapsed on the floor, the blue stun bolt shining across his body before dissipating into the air. You felt the blinding pain before you saw it. Two vibro-blades had pierced through your armour at strategic points, because Hunter knew where the weak spots in your armour were. One blade was in your stomach, and another was right in your heart.

You let out a choked breath as you stumbled back, helplessly trying to stop the flow of blood as you collapsed on your knees and landed on your side on the grass. You tasted iron as blood slowly began to fill your mouth from internal wounds. Hunter knew exactly where he stabbed you.

Somewhere in the distance, you swore you could hear Crosshair yelling at his brothers, telling them that you were hit, that you were down, but you felt yourself not caring as you began to feel... nothing.

The last thing you did was turn to see Hunter's fallen body and pray that the Batch was close enough to rescue the one that you had fallen for before the darkness came to bring you home.

"Why'd you have to lead me on?Why'd you have to twist the knife? Walk away and leave me bleeding, bleeding? Why'd you whisper in the dark? Just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screaming, screaming" - Say Don't Go (Taylor Swift)

end

... or is it? should i do a part 2? comment or jump in my requests if you want one! this is my first star wars fic so please be kind!! update : part two is coming! xx dreamtheatre requests are open!!

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